


Fractals

by CorsetJinx



Category: Shall We Date?: Wizardess Heart+
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Some angst, healing relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 114
Words: 107,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Corset's writings on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing - Klaus

**Author's Note:**

> A request from anon, MC goes on a trip and Klaus missing her. My character for Klaus is Anima Perrill.

The ticking of the clock had begun to annoy him, distracting him from the words spread across the pages of his book. It continued, even and constant. Words blurred before his eyes, when he rubbed them it only felt as though he’d irritated the delicate skin around them.

In the back of his mind, he almost believed he could hear Anima moving about, humming under her breath. It had been such a constant in the past year that, left with his own quiet company, he was acutely aware of other sounds. The clock, the rustle of his own clothes as he shifted, the turning pages of his novel.

_“I will only be away for two weeks.” Her purple eyes had met his own then, her kitten’s pout returning despite her best efforts at keeping a neutral face. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”_

Scowling, Klaus closed his novel and set it on the low table before him. He was being ridiculous, and he felt the need to busy himself with some tea. The act of boiling the water and steeping the leaves calmed his restless nerves, filled up the quiet of his study.

_“You pace when you are nervous.” She’d told him once, low voice soft with sleep. “Like that, you’re going to ruin your knees.”_

“I don’t pace.” His voice was too loud in the study, startling him from his reverie. The dark amber liquid in his teacup didn’t respond, for all that he stared into it.

Violet eyes glanced at the calendar he’d been avoiding all day, busying himself with almost anything else to make time go by.

Still six more days to go, before she returned.


	2. Goldstein Troubles - Klaus & Elias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request for some fluff between the Goldstein brothers. Inspired by rukiexramen‘s picture of MC giving Elias a golden Frankenstein drawing on Tumblr.

“Klaus?” A knock on the office door, his little brother’s voice only just carrying through the wood. Still focusing on his papers, the elder blond kept writing. “Enter.” He glanced up only once, seeing Elias slowly step in and shut the door. “Was there something you needed, Elias? It’s almost time for curfew.” Refocusing on his previous task, Klaus failed to see the troubled expression his sibling wore.

“I-I.. uh, that is… w-would you..?” Unable to form a full sentence, Elias left the request hanging in the air between them. Nervously, he fidgeted with his coat, shuddering at the drop in the room’s temperature. His roommate might not believe him when he spoke of his brother’s temper, but to him, he could feel the tension mount.

He knew Klaus didn’t like to be interrupted. Especially while doing his work as a Prefect.

Yes, Elias knew this but…

“And what,” the elder Goldstein’s tone was the epitome of calm, on the surface at least, “could be so important that you lost the ability to even articulate it, hm?” The taller man sat back in his chair, raising his head to smile at Elias. The smile. The Emperor’s smile that spelled certain doom on anyone who received it.

He felt his knees tremble and tried not to squirm as his stomach clenched, inhaling slowly to try and steady himself. He could do this. Just… explain what had happened and ask for help. His brother’s help.

Before he could descend further into a state of despair, Klaus’ eyes opened and the terrifying smile abruptly disappeared. Eyes widening, mouth falling open, his older brother stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. He didn’t even move to adjust his glasses, which had slid down his nose a little.

Elias coughed, wanting nothing more than to shrink in on himself and preferably disappear. Somewhere no one could see him, especially not like this.

Because from the crown of his head to the bottoms of his booted feet, he was painted a brilliant shade of gold. Skin, hair, even his uniform had the same color! So far as he’d been able to tell, only his eyes had escaped the horrific transformation.

He watched Klaus’ shoulders begin to shake, hands balling up into fists. In that moment, Elias felt very sure that he was about to be ridiculed, lectured, and sent from the room to be forced to walk all the way back to the dorm looking like this - as if the trek to the Prefect’s Office hadn’t been bad enough!

Instead, perhaps worse, he could only watch as Klaus’ shocked expression gave way to a broad smile, then a laugh. An honest to the Dragon of Time laugh. His own mouth fell open, eyes staring at the man as if he’d lost his mind.

Why was he laughing? Was it really necessary to make such a production out of this?!

“Ah-! Ahahaha!” His eyes closed, mouth wide, one hand splayed over his stomach, the man was lost to his fit of mirth; opening his eyes only once before having to quickly close them again, deep laughter filling the room. The other boy folded his arms across his chest the golden tint of his skin darkening on his cheeks in response to his angry flush.

“You look - how did this happen, Elias?” His breath hitching, Klaus managed to form a sentence as he finally pushed his amusement aside. Still by the door, his little brother stood defensively, face verging on outrage.

“You didn’t need to laugh!” Quick as ever to snap when emotional, Elias swallowed immediately after the words left his mouth. He’d argued. With his brother.

He was going to die.

Rather than fulfilling the expectation of dread, however, the Prefect merely narrowed his gaze. Standing, he moved around his desk, minding the small lean-to of books next to it. Elias visibly stiffened as he approached, eyes growing wider and wider until they seemed about to pop. “You are the one that showed up looking like this.” He pointed out, mouth pulling up into a smirk. “I’m sure you would be quick to do the same, if it were me.”

Elias shook his head, horrified at the concept.

“Good. Now, what caused this?” He gestured to, well, his brother. The golden cast to the younger’s person didn’t appear to be harmful, as Elias had shown no signs of illness since entering the room. It didn’t look to be a glamor spell, nor a curse.

“I wish I knew.” His brother shifted his weight, one hand raising to his chin and curling there, a habit he had when in thought. “It happened while I was in the archives, doing research for Headmaster Randolph’s class.”

“The subject?” Perhaps an enchanted item then… something misplaced? Or purposely used for a prank?

It would not, after all, be unheard of for that Orlem boy to cause such trouble.

“Barrier magic.” Elias glanced up at him, features somber. “I opened a book and then a cloud of smoke came out and,” dropping his arm, he gestured to himself as well, “this happened.”

Klaus drew his wand out from the confines of his pocket, aiming it at the startled boy. In a commanding voice, the Prefect recited the incantation to return things to their natural state. A radiant glow of magic flowed from his wand, the spell engulfing Elias’ form.

It seemed to be worki-

A bang drove all other sound from his ears, his hands lifting too late to protect them. Smoke, white and sour-tasting surrounded both men, leaving them coughing in the aftermath. Waving a hand to dispel the noxious fumes, Elias dared to crack open one eye to look at the damage. It wasn’t like his brother at all to lose control over so simple a spell…

He went absolutely still, eyes the size of saucers. A strangled noise emerged from his throat, what might have been nervous laughter quickly cut off.

Not quickly enough, apparently, Klaus swept away the last of the smoke with his wand, eyes narrowed in a glare. Face twisted into a scowl, the older man drew himself up, more than likely to rebuke him for daring to voice such a sound.

“L-Look!” Before his sibling could speak, desperately hoping it would distract him, Elias pointed at his brother’s own form. Watched as Klaus’ brows drew together in suspicion before obliging, gaze lowering to look at himself.

For the second time in a mere five minutes, Klaus Goldstein was speechless. And also gold, from head to toe.

Elias was nearly sure he could perceive the exact moment his brother’s temper snapped.

_**“LUCA ORLEM!”** _

 

A green haired boy sneezed, loudly and obnoxiously, and rubbed his nose with one hand. A moment passed and he sneezed again, murmuring a quiet “Shit.”


	3. Gifts - Schuyler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mid-way through Luca's route, I wanted Schuyler to have something nice. My character for Luca is Arum Pendergast.

There was a cup of tea on his desk, gently steaming, the mild fragrance filling his office. He noticed it as soon as he stepped in, though in looking around he could spot no one responsible.

The tea wasn’t all, he found, once he’d stepped closer. A clear bag that would easily sit within his palm lay next to the cup and saucer, what looked like pieces of shortbread inside.

Lips thinning into a frown, Schuyler drew out his wand and gave it a flick, murmuring the incantation quietly. The spell revealed nothing to him, besides an absolute lack of poison in either cookie or tea. Satisfied, but still curious, he took a seat and brought the cup to his lips.

It was stronger than he usually liked, but pleasant enough. The buttery taste of the shortbread evened it out, much to his pleasure.

There was no note to be found, and it wasn’t within Luca’s nature to do something like this. To be perfectly honest, the last time he’d been the recipient of such a gesture was…

Yes, the shortbread was a good compliment to the tea.

Eyeing the black ribbon which had tied off the bag of sweets, he had a suspicion as to who it could belong to.

 

“That is all for today. You are dismissed.” Chairs scraped, young men and women collecting their things in preparation to leave. Some engaged in conversation with one another, no longer feeling bound by the strict rules he kept.

One student in particular drew his eye and he kept an even tone when he called her over. “Pendergast. A moment.”

She froze, school bag dangling in one hand. Elias Goldstein shot a confused look between them as he headed to collect his cloak. He had no doubt the boy might question her later, as unable to mind his own business as his brothers were.

Pendergast shook herself back to reality, cautiously approaching the head of the classroom. “Yes sir?”

He offered her the ribbon, now neatly tied so it wouldn’t get lost. She stared at it, recognition in her eyes evident before she could hide it.

“S-sir?”

_Luca must really like her,_ he mused.

“The next time you enter my office without permission and touch my things there will be grounds for punishment. Though I will admit you did clean the teapot afterwards.”

Her face turned pink and she avoided his eye as she took the ribbon back, no doubt wondering how he’d figured it out.

“The gesture was appreciated. Do you care to explain yourself?” Folding his arms loosely, he waited.

“Just.. you gave me advice, sir. I wanted to repay that.” Pendergast shuffled her feet, glancing up at him and meeting his direct gaze long enough for him to believe she was telling the truth. “And…”

When she trailed off, he waited. As nothing seemed forthcoming, he raised one brow, “And?”

“I think you did your best with Luca, regardless of whether he’s your blood or not.” There was a tremor in her voice and she shifted her weight again, like she was suppressing the urge to flee.

“Best to keep such assumptions to yourself, Arum.” Turning on one heel, he collected his books and swept past her, ears practically ringing with her surprise.

The girl had gumption, he could concede that.


	4. In Sickness and Health - Azusa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After their reconciliation, Azusa has a chance to take care of his Buddy. My character for Azusa is Reece Killian.

It was nearly time for classes, but he didn’t see her among any of the girls coming from the dorm. Not many of them had red hair, so he felt confident that she couldn’t have just snuck by him. Perhaps she’d risen early, for whatever reason made sense in her little head? Gone off without him to wait in the classroom?

For all it sounded plausible, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

Amelia Nile was about to pass him by before he called out, her head turning at the sound of his voice. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, but she changed her path to greet him. “Yes?”

“Have you seen Reece this morning? She doesn’t seem to be up.” Indigo eyes swept about, checking over faces. The shorter woman shifted her weight, drawing his eyes back to her. Her expression faltered, eyes sliding down and to the right. He waited, watching her pick the words she felt were correct.

“Reece caught a cold from someone in class, she said.” Lowering her hands, she tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “She won’t be in classes today. Sorry.”

He made his lips tilt up into a grateful smile, eyes curving at the corners. “Thank you. I hope you have a pleasant day.”

“You too!” Her expression brightened, genuine well wishes and then she was off, cape swaying behind her as she walked.

He watched her disappear in the mass exodus, waiting for a few moments to see if anyone else emerged. When no one did, he walked to the corner of the building, drawing out a small, person-shaped paper from the inside of his cloak. Pressing it to his lips, the spell activated with a puff of smoke.

“It has been awhile.” The shikigami spoke with his voice, his face arranged into pleasant expectation. He let his eyes trail down the doppelganger’s form, making sure nothing was out of place.

“Indeed. Go to class for me, and dinner if you must.” He smiled as his double brought a hand up to its chest, as he did when speaking to others, and dipped its head in affirmation.

“Have a good day.” It walked off in the direction of the main campus building, leaving him standing in the shadow of the girl’s dorm. Murmuring under his breath, fingers moving to trace symbols in the air. A thin stream of light stretched out, leading the way to where his Buddy’s magic was strongest.

Second floor, it seemed. Third window on the right.

He waited for the housemother to leave, making her way out towards the garden in the back of the dorm. Catching the door before it could close, pleased to see that the layout was mirror to the boy’s dorm.

Finding the stairs wasn’t difficult, though he was mildly surprised that there was no lock on the door.

“203.. 203..” He glanced at the numbers by the doors, stopping by the correct one. The door opened at a touch, and he was mildly surprised by what he saw. Carpet rather than hardwood floors, two beds, a collection of herbs hanging on the wall over the beds. He recognized lavender and rosemary, white sage bound in white ribbon.

The bed closest to the door was a mess of blankets, a thick duvet nearly touching the floor; paler sheets wrapped tight around a person curled into a ball. Trails of red stuck up from under one bunching of sheets, the familiar tint assuring him that it was Reece.

Slipping off his shoes and closing the door gently, he padded over to the bed. The figure didn’t move, even when he sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he gently pulled the sheets down from around the girl’s head, taking in the dark flush in her cheeks, sweat gathered high on her forehead. The skin around her eyes was puffy, her lips looked dry.

He could feel the heat coming off her, even without directly touching her skin.

“you do just attract trouble, don’t you?” she didn’t stir at the sound of his voice, though he wasn’t surprised. From experience, he knew that when Tsukasa became this sick he would be all but dead to the world.

He shook her shoulder carefully, watching the fluttering of her eyes. She twitched, opening her eyes and squinting in the light filtering through the curtain. It took her a moment to focus on him, a frown furrowing her brow. “Azusa?”

His lips twitched, she sounded terrible.

Recognition flickered in her eyes and he felt the urge to laugh as they widened. “Azusa what- how did you get in here?” The hand she was lifting barely had the strength to budge his shoulder, as though she were trying to push him off the bed. “You’re gonna get us both in trouble.. The dorm mother-”

“Is out in the garden. My shikigami will be attending my classes.” Reaching up, he smoothed sweaty hair from her face. She didn’t pull back, not like she might have a year ago.

He wasn’t expecting her to lean on his hand, practically letting him support her whole head.

“Good grief, you really are sick.” Frowning, he got up enough to help adjust her to a more comfortable position. “Can’t you take care of yourself?”

“Like you’re one to talk.” She mumbled up at him, unresistant in his arms.

He would have given much for this, in their first year together.

“Well, since you can hardly move I suppose it’s up to me.” Brushing her hair back, he pulled the thinner sheets up to her chest and picking up the duvet. She groaned when he laid the thicker fabric over her, trapping in the heat.

“Hush. You need to sweat it out.” He felt his eyes crinkle a little, even though he wasn’t smiling. Brown eyes glared up at him, though he was somewhat sure she was a looking a little too far to the left for it to be effective. “Later I’ll make you something, because a silly girl like you couldn’t have remembered to eat.”

“You cook?”

“Not the food you’re used to.” He murmured, tucking in the covers so that she couldn’t dislodge them so easily. “Remember, I cooked for my brother when he was alive. Even if I had to leave a shikigami with him when the family I worked for called me to them, I cooked.”

She wiggled, getting comfortable. There was a smile tugging her lips up in one of those dopey looks he was strangely fond of.

“Stay beside me?”

He felt a brow creep up at the request, but complied once he removed his cloak. On top of the covers, only touching where she permitted. She turned in the cocoon he’d made, pressing against him.

“Thank you.” Her voice was softer now, slipping back into sleep.

He hummed, idly tracing the shadows on the wall with his eyes.

 

Reece tucked her hair back into her collar, double checking that the invisibility spell Randy had cast still held. She cast no shadow, as promised, and it was easy to slip inside once he’d let the door hang open for a moment too long behind him. Pink eyes glanced over his shoulder, winking at nothing, at her, before he trailed away towards his own room.

She nodded, even if he could see, and kept a hand on her bag so it wouldn’t make any noise as she walked.

Azusa’s door opened easily, as Randy had promised. She jumped when his head lifted from his pillow, charcoal hair mussed and braids loose. It was longer than she’d thought it would be. His eyes narrowed to slits as he stared, unable to see her, she was sure, but knowing someone was present.

A flush of red lay across his cheeks, for all his eyes showed suspicion she wasn’t sure how well he could see.

“Randy..? What do you think you’re doing?”

She had to restrain a giggle, gently closing the door behind her. She remembered to remove her shoes, watching confusion move across his face once her shoes came into view.

He struggled to sit up, shoving his hair out of his face. She pulled off her cloak, folding it carefully and setting it on top of her shoes. “Sorry, not Randy.” Keeping her voice low so as not to irritate his ears, she carefully moved around the furniture he kept, kneeling by him.

“What are you-” He watched her remove her bag, grunting when she smoothed his hair back. He was burning up, 

“I’m here to take care of you, cause you can’t do it yourself.” She kissed his cheek, pushing him back onto the bed. He sat, brows rising as he watched her pour out a thermos of soup for him.

“You got me sick, you know.” He was grousing, mouth drawn into a frown.

“I know. Maybe I’ll catch it back from you.”

A huff, his beautiful eyes narrowing as she tried to feed him.

“Then your immune system is pathetic.” He smirked at her, the flush on his face making him look even more handsome. And silly.

She rolled her eyes and pressed the spoon to his lips.


	5. Sleep - Klaus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt the need for some fluff after being sick. A note- this takes place after Klaus' chapter in Halloween Monsters.

He found her in a mess of sheets, purple hair coming loose from its braid. At some point she’d claimed a pillow as her chosen victim, holding it to her chest and having buried her face against it at some point. One of her legs was wrapped up in the sheets from the knee down, he wondered if she’d tried to free it in her sleep and simply given up.

Closing the door behind him, Klaus allowed himself a moment to admire the chaos his fiancee could create while unconscious. Her top had ridden up, permitting him a glimpse of a pale stomach.

Hopefully she wasn’t the type to kick in her sleep. He thought he could deal with being held or sprawled on at least.

Anima didn’t stir when he carefully freed her leg, or as he settled into her bed. It was a snug fit, her being smaller than him and the bed made for one. Solving that merely required he negotiate for the pillow’s freedom - she let out a small protest when he did, but quieted down when he lifted her so that she could lay on his chest.

His eyes could pick out the small discoloration on her neck and he frowned at it. She bruised easily, he knew that now, but if it was still there in the morning he would try and heal it.

His body was still warm from her, enough that she should still be comfortable for the rest of the night.

Pulling the blanket up and over them, he contented himself with running his fingers through her hair. She turned into the touch, sighing in her sleep. It made his lips quirk and he let himself close his eyes.

Soon, they would be sharing a different bed, in a place of their own.

That thought lulled him to sleep.


	6. Mistakes Were Made - Arum & Schuyler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a chat with gedonelune-romance on Tumblr, also dedicated to them for putting up with my jokes about Schuyler being attractive... for a jerk.

The corridor would be pitch black if not for the moonlight creeping through the arches, enough to see by but not much else. Carbuncle nestled into her shoulder, purring quietly as she walked. The sound was comforting, easing her nerves. She still wasn’t sure if she trusted the note Luca had sent about them meeting out here.

He’d said he wanted to make it up to her, for making her upset.

She wanted to believe him. She did but…

“Who’s there?!”

Stifling her gasp, Arum turned, immediately wishing she hadn’t. Her Carbuncle did its best to hide within the collar of her cloak and she wished she could do that same, absently lifting a hand to stroke the tiny creature’s soft pink fur.

Professor Schuyler’s expression went from stern to baffled, then suspicious and resigned. He marched up to her, arms folding in their usual position when he’d come to a stop. “Pendergast. Again I find you wandering after curfew. Explain yourself.”

Her mind was filled with several responses at once, back-lit with a rushing sensation. Why did it always have to be Schuyler that found her? Not that she wanted to chance running into the Headmaster at this time of night either, but really? The same person, running into her at every turn, for three days?

“We need to stop meeting like this sir. People will talk.”

Arum regretted the words the instant they left her mouth, flinching at her own audacity. The professor had been oddly light in his accusations up to now, barring the intense lecture she’d had to endure a night or so previous. She was certain that would no longer be the case, thanks to her glibness.

His face let her know that she had surprised him, dark blue eyes wide and his mouth slightly ajar. It lasted only a second, before shifting back the stern mask she was familiar with.

He had such pretty eyes too, it was almost a shame.

She wanted to slap herself.

“There would be no need for talk if you explained why this is the third time I am finding you out of bed, long after curfew.” His tone was no harsher than normal, and it gave her the small chip of hope that her poor choice of words, at least, was forgiven.

Restraining a nervous laugh, she let herself swallow. “Well, you see…”


	7. Comfort and Joy - Elias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for jambajunkie, because she is amazing and I wanted to give something back for all her efforts on the fandom's behalf. The eldest Goldstein brother is named Louis here, because I liked the sound of the name. Obviously not canon by Solmare's standards.

“How is he?” Louis murmured, taking up a leaning position against the wall. He ignored his father’s tired glare when he rested a foot against the polished wood behind him, focusing on Klaus’ drawn face and the subtle flash of pride and love in his younger sibling’s violet eyes.

“He’s doing well. More worried for her than himself, of course.” The so called ‘Emperor’ chuckled, rubbing his face with his hands as if it would erase the strain of the last twelve hours.

“And the mother?” If his sibling noticed any heightened scrutiny to his person, Klaus didn’t show it.

“She’s resting. The baby is healthy, and god he screams.” The middle son suddenly laughed, and as Louis watched it was like seeing months disappear from his little brother’s face. Klaus looked vibrant when he laughed, always had, though he suspected part of the glow came from being a newly christened uncle.

“He? So, the little rabbit has given us another boy.” Shaking his head, he brought his propped leg down to join the other on the floor. Their father ceased glaring from beneath flickering eyelids. He found it slightly amusing that the old man had insisted he be present until the end, given his and Elias’ strained relationship.

“Indeed. I’d hoped for a niece. Or twins, perhaps.” Hearing the other’s voice drift off into the realms of fancy, the eldest son allowed himself a smile.

“Twins are difficult, Klaus. Don’t be cruel to the woman.” Casting his gaze about, he found that he missed his wife’s company. Elaine had been present during the labor, but her own health had demanded that she retire to her room. When he’d offered to join her she’d adamantly charged him to stay until there was news of the new parents and their child, be it good or, heavens forbid, bad.

Still, he’d give all the cigarettes stashed in his office to be able to hold her right now.

“And you? What do you hope for Elaine gives birth?” Feeling eyes on him, he gave a wry smile.

“A girl. We’ve too many men in the family, and I want to coddle a princess in my arms before she must become a queen.” Turning his head, he caught the baffled look in the younger man’s eyes. It made him realize, once more, how many years were between them.

Clapping a hand on one broad shoulder, he gave him a gentle shake. “You’ll understand, once you have children of your own. Speaking of,” although he kept his tone light, the walls Klaus was throwing up would be visible to anyone with working ocular nerves. “I’ve yet to hear of when you will get the joy of being a father. Don’t tell me you intend to place last, with Elias in the lead?”

Pink sprung to his brother’s cheeks, apparently taking his capacity for speech with it.

He’d just barely managed to smother his laughter when the door to Elias’ quarters opened, and the man of the hour stepped out.

The last the time he’d seen the youngest of his siblings so disheveled was after an afternoon of Ladliz in the summer, Klaus and Elias versus their father and himself. There were lines of strain on the younger man’s face, circles under his eyes.

But Elias was glowing. Honest to gods, his littlest brother was glowing with happiness and it made the tension of the long hours absolutely worth it.

Then Klaus opened his mouth.

“Only you?” Furrowing his brow, the broadest of the siblings stood from his seat. “Depriving us of our nephew’s company already?”

Elias shot him a look, cheeks flushing for a moment as he gathered himself. Had their mother still been up she would have demanded that they leave him alone. And then she would have swept in to see her grandchild, before anyone else.

“He’s f-f-feeding r-right now.”

Louis felt his lips twitch, “Deep breaths, little brother. I’m sure she won’t tell us if you fainted.”

The youngest of them tried to glare daggers at him, but the look disappeared when their father stood, frowning as his knees creaked. Ministry work was hard on the body, but Walter Goldstein remained one of the longest serving wizards among the ranks.

Neither he or Klaus moved aside when their father approached Elias, instead watching as the man with pale streaks in his golden hair squeezed their sibling’s slender arm. He thought, for a moment, that pride was evident in the older man’s eyes, but it was not for him and Elias deserved this.

He deserved more than just this, but that would come in time.

He was about to turn away from the scene when he heard Elias’ voice perk up, drawing him back in.

“What was that? Sorry.”

The light in Elias’ eyes was dancing, adding to the warm glow of fatherhood. “I said, I finally beat you at something Louis.”

A laugh bubbled up within his chest, genuine and thick with emotion. It carried an easy warmth through his body, stretching his mouth into a lazy smile. “That you did. That you did. Might I give a bit of advice, however?”

Perplexed, he saw the young man glance at Klaus and then at their father, but the eldest Goldstein simply shrugged and released Elias’ arm, slowly heading back to his seat. Klaus narrowed his eyes, arms folding over his broad chest.

“Come, Elias. I swear not to bite.” Extending his arm, he waited. Though he hesitated a moment, he did come over. Once Elias was close enough, he wrapped his arms around his slim shoulders, pulled him close to whisper without being heard.

“Everything from here on is you, Elias. You and your wife, not the name of Goldstein. Understand?” He felt the shorter man stiffen in his arms, awkwardly returning the embrace. “You’re going to do fine by them. I know it.”

This close, he could hear him swallow as his words sank in. He certainly felt the squeezing of his ribs a second later.

Over Elias’ shoulder, he sent Klaus a wink.


	8. Everything As It Is - Yukiya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other thing I wrote for jambajunkie, based around my headcanons post for the Reizen family.

There was a commotion sweeping through the house, staring out in the front yard and spreading with all the zeal of a wildfire. Two heads of matching brown dashed over the lawn and into the moderately sized home, twin voices clamoring for the attention of the house’s occupant. A woman, her face lined with age and care started from her spot by the window, eyes like saucers as her children surrounded her.

She tried to quiet them, instead they grasped her arms, pulling her up (carefully) and leading her towards the wide-open door. As if years had been taken from them and the season of the year at the peak of the holidays, the twins exclaimed one thing over and over again to her bemused ears.

“He’s back, Mother! He’s back!”

The utterance made her heart flutter in her chest, but she turned from the oldest, dearest hope of her heart to a more practical one.

“What, did your father come back with a spring calf to excite you both so much?” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled, but their faces only showed mirrored expressions of exasperation. Her ears caught the noises coming from the back yard and garden and she turned her head, tugging a hand free to push loose blue strands streaked with gray from her eyes.

Being led by their youngest children in a similar manner as she, her husband seemed every bit as lost as she was.

Her brow furrowed, because if her husband was here then who..?

Had her second eldest come home early and they’d heard before she had?

Shouting from the path leading to the main road made her turn, one of the twins hollering back in response even as she pointed. Blinking in the brilliant sunlight, the put-upon woman raised a hand to shade her eyes.

There, a sibling on either side of him, was someone she’d thought she might never see again. He’d grown taller, much taller than the little boy who’d fled on a moonlit night almost two decades ago but she knew him. Knew the angle of his jaw and the shape of his eye, the other covered by an eye patch that took up almost half his face.

Yukiya allowed his younger brother and sister to all but drag him towards the house, his eye darting all over the place as if he were trying to absorb it all at once.

That eye stopped on her and a sound that might have been a sob emerged from her throat, a hand going to her mouth to stifle it or keep her from crying. It was hard to say, because her eldest child was home. He was finally home.

She heard her husband give a loud cry and saw him move forward, hopping the rows of flowers that separated the lawn from the path and embrace the slightly taller young man; his momentum barely rocking their son at first but as his siblings joined in he finally staggered under their combined weight.

The twins helped her over, no longer shouting so much as laughing, or crying, or both and what became of them all was best described as a gaggle of limbs and voices; each one attempting to touch the single person at the center of the group and reassure themselves that he was real.

Up close, it was easier to see how much he’d truly grown - the broadness of his shoulders and age in his eye speaking for themselves. His blue hair was still cut short, if in a choppy fashion, as if he’d tried to do it himself.

He looked overwhelmed, but absolutely buoyant, large hands touching faces, patting heads, pausing when he finally got to touch his mother’s cheek.

“You’re small now.” His voice had deepened, and he sounded so much like his father that she felt a few more tears escape. “When did you get so small..?”

“You grew. You grew up, Yukiya.” She smiled, pushing mussed hair from his face the way she used to; his eye watering as she did.

One of the children, one of the youngest?, suddenly called out, pointing once again.

Up the path, a young lady stood in the shade of a tree.


	9. What If - Randy March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know that Randy wakes up.. but what about after?

The school hadn’t changed much, he noticed. Faces had, since new students had flocked in every year, and even the professors had changed a little. Professor Schuyler looked older, expression ever stern, but when he’d greeted the man in the Headmaster’s office he thought he’d seen a flash of relief in the older man’s blue eyes.

“Randy March. Good to see the real you again.”

The red haired student felt himself laugh a little, sensation of doing so still so novel, so precious. He extended his hand, still smiling, towards the teacher. “I’m very glad to say hello to you again, sir.”

Schuyler’s hand closed around his own, shaking twice before letting go. A chuckle caught their attention, the figure of the Headmaster emerging from the door of his office.

“Conrad, I see you’ve met our returning student.” Randolph’s eyes were bright, as jovial as Randy remembered them being. He did find it peculiar that the man hadn’t aged at all, not a hair out of place, for the past twenty years.

He wanted to ask, but the man spoke up first.

“Randy. I trust your journey here was a safe one?” The question was backed up by an expression of mild concern, the Headmaster’s demeanor nearly appearing parental for a moment.

“Ah, yes. The Acceptance Letter was rather surprised to see me again, but the train ride was fun.” Smiling broadly, Randy set on hand on his hip as he shifted his weight. “I’m looking forward to continuing my studies here. Or, will I have to start all over again?” He trailed off, expression unsure.

Schuyler folded his arms, “There have been new developments in magical study since you last attended. It may be advisable to start from the beginning.”

He turned the thought over in his mind, mouth pulling into a frown. It was… difficult to remember everything from his first years as a student. He knew that his Buddy and he had been working on their summoning circle, to make it easier for wizards of weaker magic to summon dignified creatures.

To start all over again… Perhaps it would be best?

“Of course, you are welcome to take advanced courses once you pass the Trial.” Randolph’s voice, drawing his attention gently, made the redhead look up.

“R-really?” His voice quaked for a moment, feeling his eyes widen.

That would.. that would be wonderful, really.

“Thank you! Thank you, Headmaster!” He caught the older man’s hand in both of his, feeling the prickle of heat behind his eyes that meant he might cry. Both the professors looked mildly shocked, though Randolph recovered first.

“It’s quite alright, Randy. You’ve no need to thank me.” His eyes crinkling at the corners, Randolph allowed him a moment to compose himself - and to release the man’s hand.

“I do though.” Straightening up, hands at his sides, he managed a smile. “You helped me even when I was stone, sir. Allowing Serge back into the school, helping my friend Klaus.. Both of you have done so much for me.”

Schuyler’s eyes rolled faintly. He thought he heard the man mutter something, but didn’t quite catch it.

“Well, that aside. This is your chance to recover a part of your life. The introductory courses should help you ease back into the fields of study.” Randolph smiled, “I look forward to teaching you again.”

“As do I.” Returning the smile, Randy suddenly stilled. Fidgeting with his Emblem, he worked up the courage to ask, “What happened with the spell Serge and I were working on? Did it ever..?”

“It succeeded.” The brunet’s voice was very gentle, an undertone of pride laced with it. “Serge and his Buddy refined it during the young lady’s Trial and it was a success. The Ministry has approved it for use, though those that do are watched closely just in case.”

Joy surged up in the young man’s chest, followed by an ache. He’d known, of course, that Serge had lit up with another student during his return to the Academy. After the little girl with the pink pigtails had woken him, he’d been astounded to learn she was Serge’s daughter. With his Buddy, no less.

He was happy for them. And grateful. Nothing could ever take that away.

Just… he missed the time that had passed while he’d been petrified, the opportunities that could have been taken.

The years that had made his parents older than he remembered them being, time that had also blessed them with another child. His dear little sister, now soon to turn five and begin learning magic at home.

“Th-thank you.” His voice thick, Randy blinked several times to clear his vision.

“Please refrain from filling my classroom with candy.” Schuyler’s stoic tone made him laugh, and he took a moment to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve.

“I’ll do my best, Professor.”

“Before you go, there is someone you should go see.”

Randy blinked, lips part for a moment in surprise. “A-alright? Who is it?”

A twinkle entered the Headmaster’s eye. “Do you remember where the hall for the professor’s offices are?” When the young man nodded, red hair bobbing with the movement, he continued, “Continue past Loran Merkulova’s office and you’ll find him. I think he’ll be quite happy to see you.”

Bemused, Randy bowed as he was dismissed, opening the creaky door with care.

Several students passed him as he walked, some of them older upperclassmen. He could almost laugh again, because even the uniforms had stayed exactly the same.

He briefly got lost looking for the corridor the Headmaster had spoken of, but asking a sweet-looking girl with large green eyes provided the correct directions.

“Past Merkulova’s office…” He caught a whiff of herbs coming from the professor’s office, and wondered if the man was brewing a potion. The door immediately after that was plain, no decoration as the others were. He knocked lightly, idly scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor as he waited.

“Enter.”

He jumped at the voice, blinking. It sounded.. familiar.

Opening the door, he smelled assam tea and books. Breathing deep, unconsciously closing his eyes as he did so, Randy let himself be buried in nostalgia.

“Was there something you need-” The voice, low and plumy, suddenly cut off. It made him open his eyes, blinking once as the picture before him registered in his brain. His hand slipped from the doorknob, limply hanging against his side as he gawped.

 

Hearing the knock, he hadn’t given much thought as to who the visitor could be. Classes were due to begin, and any one of his students could be stepping in for a last minute question. Or it could be Merkulova, requesting his assistance.

When no question was forthcoming and the silence stretched on after the door opened, he lifted his eyes from the paperwork before him.

It was like staring into the past, his heart feeling as though it had stopped briefly.

Red hair, freckled cheeks. Tall, thin, student’s uniform just a little rumpled. The eyes were closed, as though the young man had suddenly found himself lost in thought or decided to take a nap in his doorway.

Klaus felt the question die on his lips, saw the eyes of the student open and he knew. It was him, his friend. His first friend and roommate.

Blue eyes stared back at him, widening as a dumbstruck expression took over the pale face. The young man swayed, as if he might lose his balance.

He was up, up and moving before he registered it, grabbing one slender wrist and pulling the shorter man close. The door bobbed, disturbed by the action, and moved closed of its own accord.

He didn’t care. This was real. He squeezed the redhead in his arms tighter, eliciting a squeak of protest, or something, and fought against the tremors making him feel weak.

“Klaus? I-It’s you, isn’t it? K-Klaus?” Soft and breathy, Randy March’s voice drifted up to his ear, slightly muffled by his clothes. He felt arms curl around him, sensing the bemusement as Randy tried to reconcile him with the memory of twenty years ago.

“Of course it is you dumbhead. Who else would have made professor?” His voice was rough with emotion, and he felt Randy start to shake. Laughter bubbled up from the shorter man, the arms that wound around his back squeezing him with surprising strength.

Wetness seeped into the fabric of his shirt and he realized that Randy was crying.

“I-I wondered.. Serge said you were doing well but you never visited or wrote. I s-started to think you-”

Klaus cut him off, burying his face against Randy’s shoulder. “Shut up.” He took a breath to steady himself, silently cursing Serge’s name. Randy’s arms tightened around him, a hand patting the space between his shoulder blades.

“It’s okay. I’m here now.” He heard Randy take a shaky breath, pulling back from his embrace. Reluctantly, he did the same, once again amazed that the redhead hadn’t aged at all. “I’m proud of you for becoming a professor, Klaus.”

That smile, it also hadn’t changed.

Klaus let himself return the expression, steady now that the tide of emotion had become less all-consuming. As an idea occurred to him, the smile was edged with a steely glint.

“As am I. I do hope you’ve keep up with your magical training.”

Randy’s eyes flickered, confusion giving way to sudden realization - each emotion plain as day on his face. Instead of a pout, a brilliant smile emerged on the man’s face.

“Oh Klaus. Trying to bully me already. Goodness.”

“Shut up.”


	10. Sweet pea - Yukiya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was prompt fill on Tumblr based around flowers. Yukiya-centric.

The flowers continued to give off a sweet scent as he carefully gathered them, pausing occasionally to decide whether to pluck another one. Overall, he was pleased; classes at the Academy having paid off visibly, the garden flourishing happily in the sun.

Maybe it was the work of magic in the soil, the location as a whole, but he liked to imagine that he’d done something too. His visible eye curved as he surveyed the basket beside him, blossoms with cut stems waiting to be gently braided into a garland.

She wouldn’t be home yet, but he could wait.

Finished, he took the basket over to one of the apple trees they’d planted and sat. The long stems were a vibrant green, and he lost himself in the act of weaving them together. As the garland began to take shape, he began to hum under his breath.

So lost in the moment was he, time passed rather quickly.

Up the road, there came a cheerful call. His ear perked, eye widening as he came back to the present.

“Yukiya!”


	11. Jonquil - First Queen of Gedonelune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower prompt fill, featuring the First Queen and the Dragon of Time. What might have been.

“You look so happy.” The voice was different, the owner’s mouth not at all shaped for the words of human speech but she’d come to be comfortable with the gravelly tone. A shadow fell over her as she watched the sun fall beyond the horizon, as work ceased on the castle for the day.

Turning her head to regard the Dragon of Time, the woman who would be called the First Queen smiled.

“I am, my friend. All that I love is here.”

A tendril of smoke trailed from the Dragon’s nostrils as they huffed, wings folding against the scaled body.

“Is that all?” Tone softening, they looked out over the fledgling kingdom together.

“Yes. Especially if I am allowed to see you, even in a dream.” She raised a hand to touch the scales, warm as sun-drenched stone beneath her touch.

As the Dragon’s eye turned to her, she woke - the threads of the dream dissolving into the canopy of her bed. Beside her, Siegfried turned over in his sleep, breath slow and easy.

With a sad smile, the Queen stroked her belly, swollen large.


	12. Persimmon - Randolph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower prompt fill, featuring Headmaster Randolph.

The gardens were blooming, their combined scent a heady perfume to his nose. It was too early for the students to be awake, the sun scarcely risen. He loved this time, as did his other self.

On his knee, Carbuncle chirruped a greeting to a passing bird. Randolph closed his eyes, breathing deep.

Conrad could forgive him for being a little tardy.


	13. Distance - Anima Perrill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A piece more Anima-centric, sort of a continuation from Klaus' chapter in Halloween Monsters and Sleep.

The letter is strangely heavy in her hand, the paper a creamy tinge and the ink very black in contrast. She reads it again, looking for hidden meanings, words that could have been omitted on purpose. Her father’s penmanship remains the same, the curves and swirls reassuring her that yes, it is his own writing this time.

She has no idea what she will say to him, when he arrives. It has been so long since they’ve actually talked that she’s forgotten what their last spoken conversation was.

But he wants to meet, to talk. To discuss the proposal one Klaus Goldstein has set on the table.

Almost throwing down the gauntlet, as it were.

Watching the scenery slide by as she sits back against the cushions of her seat, Anima tries to remember when the nervousness set in.

 

When he enters the room, she knows. It’s not just the aura of his magic, but the faint scent of myrrh from the incense he burns in his office. It’s a smell wired in her brain from one of her earliest memories, something that has been a part of her image of her father that they’re nearly inseparable. Distantly, she is aware of something shutting down inside herself.

To her surprise, he is the one that pours the tea. Not assam, as she’s come to expect from the months spent with Klaus, but some blend she can’t name right off. She takes the cup and saucer from his slender hand, noting that he’s taken his gloves off.

“You’ve grown taller.” At the sound of his voice, she lowered her gaze into her cup. Her reflection was a dark outline, features indistinct.

“Thank you. Has your time in the capital borne fruit?” She smoothed out her voice, keeping only minimum inflection. It was a mirror to his own, the cultivated politeness in his rich timbre having deepened since the last time they’d shared company.

Discretely, she looked him over, searching for any change in his demeanor.

Purple eyes met hers, the rim of his cup barely tilted to allow the tea to pass his lips. Unconsciously her eyes widened and she felt her stomach drop a little. He’d caught her instantly.

It was harder to read him than it was Klaus. Her Buddy’s tells had become more apparent as they’d spent time together, shared almost friendly conversation as well as arguments.

Her father remained as blank as ever, walls too high for her to climb, too smooth to find purchase.

“It has. I received the notice of acceptance last fall.” He paused long enough to drink, leaving her to reel in silence.

“Congratulations, father.” Thankfully her voice didn’t tremble, even as she struggled to marshal her expression.

“Your own? Still focusing your attention to ancient magics?” His intonation changed, her ear perking as she caught it. He was genuinely curious, it seemed.

“Yes. The professors have been encouraging me in my efforts. My classmate has expressed the notion that if I apply myself I may be able to graduate early.” It wasn’t a lie. Klaus had mentioned it more than once, and she’d already begun working towards it.

“Klaus Goldstein. Your ‘Buddy’ as the Academy puts it.” He folded one leg over the other, hands coming to rest in his lap. She had the impression that he was looking down on this, not her exclusively, but close.

“Yes.” Was the only word she could manage. It felt dry and strained in her throat.

Her father’s eyes appeared to narrow at the corners, the action over so fast it could have been her imagination. When he spoke this time, she could clearly hear his want of an explanation. “This same boy wishes for your hand.”

“He isn’t a boy.” Her fingers tightened around the delicate teacup without her permission, tone going hard and cool. One slim brow rose the barest bit on his forehead, the shifting in his gaze a warning of its own. She refused to be cowed, at least on this. “He is the highest in his class, with a future in the Ministry if he wishes it.”

“The Ministry.” An undercurrent of coolness in his tone told her what she already knew. The Ministry was difficult, yes, but it wasn’t good enough. It couldn’t be good enough, not for her father.

Not for Magnus Perrill, Royal Attendant Wizard.

Anima set her cup down, folding her hands as her father did. Smoothing out her expression, she raised her chin to meet his gaze. “He would do it on his own, regardless of his father’s work.”

“You care for him enough to do this?” The faintest inclination of his head, obviously gesturing to her, to this.

“Klaus Goldstein has taught me many things, both in magic and in myself. He proposed to me, of his own volition.” Secretly, she’d wondered if he would even listen if his parents tried to make a match for him. If he would wear his countenance as the ‘Emperor’ so thoroughly that whatever lady of high society might gather her skirts and flee rather than sit and have tea with him.

She rather found the idea amusing, now that she’d passed her Trial.

“And did he teach you to do this as well?” Her father was smiling. An offhand, thin sort of smile. Ornamental, pretty. But his eyes had curved, the corners turning up.

Anima couldn’t be sure if the look was genuine, that she’d genuinely amused him.

“I refuse to be crushed.” She left it at that, using the same tone he had years ago, when she’d begun taking lessons in magic. It was one of her better memories.

They stared at each other for several beats of silence, nearly identical in some ways. He, appearing languid as a cat in its favorite roost, eyes poised to catch any weakness. She, straight and steady, unwilling to concede an inch.

“Your mother’s dress wouldn’t fit you.” He slowly tilted his head, surprising her enough that she blinked, face going slack. His eyes continued their examination, but she didn’t have the sense of being under a microscope.

“Pardon?”

Meeting her confused stare with hardly a blink, his lips curved up at the corners for just a second. “In order to marry, a woman usually requires a dress, does she not? Or do you intend to break tradition and wear something else?”

He wouldn’t let her. Neither would Klaus, she suspected.

Still, she felt a flutter in her stomach at the change in conversation. “I won’t do it for tradition, but because I wish to wear it.”

It was the right answer. She could see it in how the amused glint in his eyes grew deeper. He stood, slowly, and came closer until he stood by her side, closer than he’d been in years. Enough that she had to lift her head to look up at him, much as she hated doing so.

“You haven’t thought of flowers or anything else, have you?” One pale hand lifted, slim fingers curling as they brushed over her hair. The gesture left her speechless for a moment, and maybe that was what loosened her tongue.

“Roses. I want roses and calla lilies. White-purple ones.”

His eyes narrowed briefly at that, but then smoothed over as if it had never happened. She’d never learned why he seemed to hate roses, only that she’d grown to enjoy them initially out of spite.

“It is something, at least.” This time his hand lingered at the top of her head, the warmth of his skin surprising her. “You aren’t going to let him dominate this, I hope.”

“No.” She felt her lips twitch, her body relax the smallest degree.

The light caught in her father’s hair was he nodded, the motion more a faint inclination. Briefly, his expression was different. Almost… No, she must be seeing things.

“I expect an invitation. Walter Goldstein will not be the one to escort you down the aisle.” As her eyes widened at the unusual inflection in his voice, he smirked, clear as day. “Unless you intended to ask one of his brothers?”

He knew Klaus had siblings.

Of course he did.

..if she asked, Elias might have a coronary at the rehearsal.

“I would prefer it be you. I’ve yet to tell Klaus about you, after all.” Raising her hand, she hesitated, then carefully took his hand from her head and gave it the littlest squeeze. “You are my father. I’ll be alone if you aren’t there.”

It was the truth. It was also the hardest thing she could admit, being face-to-face with him.

“You are hardly alone, silly girl. I didn’t raise you to be blind.” His expression eased, fingers brushing hers once before he pulled away.

She restrained a snort, unable to help the twitch of a smirk at her lips.


	14. Happy Halloween - Elias Goldstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps it's the party or the sweets, but Elias finds himself being more daring than usual. My character for Elias is Mami Hinters. Her first name is pronounced mah-mee.

“You look lovely, Mami.” He saw her flush, even under the powder she’d applied to seem as ghostly as possible. But she smiled at him, eyes soft with excitement and joy. Her first Halloween party at the Academy, and they were fortunate enough to be able to spend it together.

“Happy Halloween, Elias.” Her breath suddenly ghosted over his cheek, lips gently, so gently grazing his skin.

He felt himself turning red, his cheeks burning.

She didn’t press him, pulling away with that glowing look he’d come to love - the one that meant she loved him, only him.

He reached out, cupping her cheek and drawing her close.

Buoyant with unexpected bravery, he claimed her lips as his first official Halloween treat.


	15. Happy Halloween - Luca Orlem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a night of revelry and tricks, and there's no one else he'd rather have by his side.

He saw her first, svelte dress hugging her form much more than the one she’d worn at the Magic Competition, a sliver of her back teasing him. She jumped when he ran his fingers up her spine, a gasp leaving her. Arum turned, pale hair with its dark brown streak all the more striking in the glow of the enchanted lamps.

“Luca!” She kept her voice low, not quite a hiss, earrings swinging gently from the lobes of her ears.

“You looking amazing, Princess.” Chuckling, he smoothed a stray bit of her hair, enjoying how she looked outside her normal look.

Amusement darted through her eyes, and she lightly pushed him. “Is that an actual compliment, Prince Luca?”

“Ugh.” Rolling his eyes, he slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Did you remember the candy?”

A soft brush against his shoulder made him jump, she’d kissed him, he realized. Her smile was wicked, a bag he hadn’t noticed in her hand. “Of course. Let’s make this memorable.”


	16. Happy Halloween - Yukiya Reizen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who said the wolf had to eat the girl in the red hood? My character for Yukiya is Delia Ritter, who has blue-yellow color blindness.

“Delia, are you sure you’re okay?” he offered her a hand as she descended the stairs, watching as she fussed with the hem of her skirt. Gray eyes met his and she smiled brightly, red hooded cloak perched precariously on her head. She’d agreed to wearing the glasses for tonight, so she’d be able to see all the colors at the party.

Understandably, she seemed transfixed by it - shades previously unknown to her suddenly exposed, even if it was only slight.

“Y-yeah. I don’t look ridiculous, do I?” Sheepishness dominated her expression, legs shifting to redistribute her weight in the unfamiliar kitten heels. The skirt was short, he’d felt himself turn pink when he’d seen it initially, and the bodice was formfitting, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought.

He could appreciate the joke of their costumes, feeling a fluffy wolf ear twitch.

“You’re beautiful.” Was all he said, gently guiding her towards the courtyard. She flushed, squeezing his hand as she swallowed. As her eyes darted around, taking in all the decorations and costumes, he leaned in to press a kiss to her temple.


	17. Happy Halloween - Klaus Goldstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He might find the celebrations tiresome, but she is there and that is more than enough.

He was glad he’d gotten her out of that revealing witch’s costume, though privately he could admit that the sight of her flushing as she stood before him in it would stir his memory for some time. Anima twitched at the explosion of a firework, the sparks reflecting off the metal in her hair that kept the thick purple tresses from flowing everywhere.

Feeling her press against him sent a bolt of heat through his body, stubbornly he made his breath even out.

“Do you dislike the party?”She asked, lifting her face to look at him. It exposed the line of her neck, whiteness of her dress making her appear like a temptation from a dream.

“Little changes from year to year.” Looking at her, he let himself smirk, pleased when a thin pink spread over her cheeks. “But this is a first for you, right?”

Her eyes roamed over the gathering - students dunking for apples, talking, Headmaster Randolph toasting the student who had made a new horror house for the year. Schuyler attempting to catch a fleeing Luca and his girlfriend, both of them laughing as candies hovered in their wake, popping loudly and leaving colorful trails of smoke and light.

“It looks fun.” She spoke in a murmur, something wistful in her face.

He squeezed her shoulder tenderly, drawing her closer. She hummed, resting her head against his chest. When he trailed his fingers over the back of her neck, he found her shiver to be sweet.


	18. Happy Halloween - Randy March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He never thought he'd be back here, enjoying himself. She just makes it even better. My character for Randy is Eleanor Thomas.

Eleanor jumped in his arms as the wall of the horror house rippled, a skeletal limb reaching out as if to grab at her cute rabbit ears. He held her, chuckling tenderly as she trembled in fright.

Her small fist nudged at his ribs, hardly more than a push. “D-don’t laugh at me, Randy.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He shushed, petting her hair as they walked on, suppressing a giggle at the next scare. “We’re almost through, I promise.” Tucking her head against his chest, he guided them past the last hall, flinching once when a spell activated and sent a howling scream into his ears.

Tail flicking from side to side irritably, he pouted. But Eleanor nuzzled his side, instantly perking his mood.

Once outside, he took a moment to look her over, adorable rabbit ears twitching in the cool evening air and her pinafore slightly wrinkled from tucking herself against him. She looked at him, blinking her large eyes and he found himself smiling as he cupped her face.

“Eleanor, I think I’ve found my favorite sort of candy.” He murmured, eyes going half-lidded as she blinked, processing his meaning in time for him to plant a kiss on her sweet lips.

She kissed him back, surprising him, hands winding into the collar of his shirt to hold him there.

When they parted, she wasn’t the only one slightly out of breath.

“I think I found mine too.” Cheeks red, she grinned up at him


	19. Happy Halloween - Azusa Kuze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't like crowds. My character for Azusa is Reece Killian. Like the other Happy Halloween's, this is compliant with Halloween Monsters.

He took the cup Reece offered him, sniffing the contents with a perplexed frown, only to pull back and resist the urge to sneeze. How much cinnamon had been added to the beverage?

Beside him, the little bird snickered. He shot her a look through this lashes, taking a sip of the drink to be polite.

To his surprise, it wasn’t terrible. Just the smell.

“Not into parties?” She cocked her head, red hair pulled back somehow and the crest of feathers on her head casting shadows over her face. He couldn’t figure out how she’d done it, the soft down on her arms and legs, or the wings carefully folded against her back.

“I am not fond of crowds.” Turning his eyes back to the party, he saw the girl named Amelia dancing with another student, fairy wings beating gently on her back.

His skin tingled with the abundant magic of this place, his heart beating regularly for the first time in years.

“Why aren’t you with them?” She turned away when he asked, drawing her legs up to her chest.

“I can’t dance and everyone’s making out. It’s kinda weird.” She laughed, softly, the down on her knees stirring with her breath. “Never thought Halloween would bring out the horny teenager in everyone.”

A snort escaped him, both at her language and the truth of the situation. Feathers rustled as she looked at him, and he gave her a smirk.

“Drink with me?” He thought he might be able to stomach more of… whatever it was, if he wasn’t alone.

Her face, strangely mixing human features with a bird’s, lit up with her smile.

He attributed the spike in his pulse to an influx of magic in the air, nothing else.


	20. Half A Woman - Anima & Klaus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klaus, you're rude.

“Not only that, but you are half a woman as well.” Fingers curled around his tie as if to adjust it, stoic eyes went from her face down towards her chest. It wasn’t a quick glance. He stared, almost pointedly, and she could feel indignation and anger twist inside herself.

He’d already announced that she was a failure of a wizardess, that she could dismiss. It was true, her magic wasn’t as steady as it needed to be and her focus needed work. Even given his harsh teaching method, she could appreciate, however reluctantly sometimes, that he was helping her to improve.

But this, _this_ was uncalled for and completely unnecessary.

“Should I consider _you_ half a man then?” Raising her head, forcing her fingers not to curl into fists, Anima narrowed her eyes as she bored into him. “Or just an overgrown boy, as there is no possible way you could understand what it means to be a girl or a woman?”

The expression of shock on his face was worth it, even if it meant she’d lost her temper. Even if he tried to make her pay for it.

Rather than raising his voice, insulting her intelligence, or any other behavior he’d shown thus far, Klaus’ eyes swept to the side and he said nothing.

Her anger trembled, then began to cool and fade. It left her feeling slightly cold and ill, so she wrapped her arms around herself.

She should apologize. She’d acted like a child and he was being… himself. Whatever that was.

“Let’s get some sleep.”

Hearing him speak, she glanced up at him.

In the moonlight he didn’t seem any less harsh, or dignified. But he was meeting her gaze and being patient.

Swallowing, she let herself nod.


	21. Night in the Greenhouse - Anima & Klaus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sleepy students. Follow-up to Half A Woman.

Agreeing with the suggestion that they should sleep, Anima reached up to separate her hair into sections, braiding them together with the ease of long practice. This way it was less likely to get caught on anything, and wouldn’t get stuck in her mouth or around her neck as she tried to sleep.

She did her best to ignore the feeling of being watched, rising from the bench and idly tracing the petals of the Solnox from beneath her lashes. Pulling a tie from within the pocket of her blazer, she wrapped it around the end of the braid, letting it rest against her shoulder once it was done.

Undoing the ties of her cloak, she was about to spread it over the grass when his voice stopped her.

“What are you doing?” He sounded almost incredulous, as if he’d never seen someone sleep on grass before.

Anima paused, heavy wool clasped in her hands. “If you don’t want me to be on the grass, I’ll sleep on the path,” His brows crept up, further towards his hairline, and she cocked one of her own. “You’re tall, so you can have the bench.”

The hem of her cloak scarcely touched the cobbled path before an arm wound around her and the fabric, trapping it against her front. Heat made its way to her face and she jumped, unconsciously leaning away from the warmth of him behind her.

“You’re not sleeping on the ground, you imbecile.” Tone gruff, he all but carried her back to the bench. He set her down with surprising care, and by the time she tried to get a look at his face he’d managed a stoic expression again. “Lean against that rail and I’ll take the other.”

As if to punctuate the statement, he sat by the opposite rail, stiffly pressing his side against it.

She stared at his profile for a moment, before draping her cloak around herself. Shifting to find a more comfortable position, she shut her eyes.

 

He’d come awake as she’d started to slip off the bench, a rush of adrenaline helping him to catch her before she’d hit the ground. She was light in his arms when awake, but this deeply asleep she’d seemed to gain several pounds of dead weight. Her face remained slack, breaths deep and even.

“Even asleep, you’re trouble.” Keeping his voice low, as it that might wake her more than the near tumble she’d had, he leaned back and carefully arranged their positions so that she could lay atop him.

She murmured in her sleep, words jumbled enough that he couldn’t catch their meaning. Unconsciously, he brushed his fingers through her hair, feeling his lips quirk as she turned her head into the touch. Her breath skimmed over his chest and he shivered, eyes closing.

One night. He could do this.

Letting out a slow exhale of his own, he peered up at the stars through the greenhouse’s roof, picking out several constellations before his eyelids started to feel heavy.

 

Klaus woke to sunlight, the animals within the greenhouse stirring and the sensation of skin on his. Blinking the brightness out of his eyes, he cast his gaze downward, unsurprised to see Anima still sleeping. Her braid had fallen over her shoulder at some point in the night, but her lips remained slightly parted as she breathed deeply.

He felt something twitch against his chest, where the feeling of skin on skin was strongest, and finally noticed that she’d slipped her hand under his shirt during the night. Her palm was against his sternum, nails tickling his skin when her fingers twitched again.

His heart skipped a beat, against his permission, and he felt his mouth go slightly dry. She shifted, nuzzling into him and his breath hitched.

“Hey.”

No response.

The pads of her fingers pressed into his skin gently, thumb stroking a path back and forth over his skin.

“H-hey!” It tickled, and he raised his voice, hoping it would wake her up. She mumbled something, lashes fluttering, but he felt his hopes fall when she just arranged herself to get comfortable again.

She was warm, small enough to seem almost swallowed beneath his Prefect’s cloak. Slightly different from how he dreamed but..

It was her.

Her head moved and he felt heat burst in his cheeks was her lips brushed over his skin.

“Wake up! Don’t touch me there!” It left him as a bark of words more than a statement and finally, to his relief, she jolted awake.


	22. Midnight Cruise - Reece & Klaus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even the Emperor can be sweet. A slight AU, because Klaus has no Buddy here. Please be warned, emotional/physical abuse has its mentions here.

Her face lit up for the briefest of seconds when he offered her a ride on the broomstick, brown eyes lingering on the enchanted tool long enough to make him think she might accept. Her mouth opened, and then it happened.

Something flickered in her eyes, drawing them down and to the left. Whatever it was had to be unpleasant, the color leaving her face and her mouth closing. The moon’s light made her seem paler than she really was, emphasizing the shadows under her eyes.

He felt his lips draw thin, stare drawn to something out of place, a darkness on the skin of her neck - partially hidden by her collar and the loose waves of her hair.

Like she’d sensed him trying to examine the mark, her hands lifted to draw her collar up as if to ward off a chill.

When he raised his eyes to her face, her nostrils had flared, pupils of her eyes wider than he remembered.

“I.. I don’t think that would be a good idea, Sir. Prefect. Klaus, I mean.” Reece averted her gaze, shoulders curling in the same manner he’d seen others do when they wanted to avoid a scolding. Or worse.

“Are you sure?” Keeping his tone gentle, he tried to catch her eye again.

She swallowed, glancing up at him and his broom, the wind stirring her hair and allowing him a glimpse of the earring on her ear. The ones he’d made for her.

“It sounds fun, really.” Reece offered him a smile, still drawn in on herself but not quite so afraid, or perhaps he was being hopeful. If anything, she looked wistful. “I always wanted to fly, even when I was little. I tried to make a broom out of regular wood when I was seven, but I couldn’t get it to fly. Broke my ankle that way.”

She extended her left leg, fabric of her pajama bottoms drawing up and exposing a sliver of skin. It was too dark for him to see if there was a scar, and he didn’t want to invade her space, afraid if he got too close she would shut him out.

As he lifted his eyes to hers again, he was surprised by her smile. It was small and thin, but there was light in her eyes again. In spite of the pain she must have experienced, it seemed like the memory still had some joy for her. His own mouth curved up at the corners, a spot of warmth spreading in his chest.

“It sounds like you’re an adventurous girl.” He folded his arms, carefully balancing his weight on the broom. “Have you ever considered making brooms now?”

“Ones that actually fly, you mean?” Humor laced her voice, not so much self-depreciating as accepting, allowing him a glimpse of what her personality must have been before Azusa Kuze. Watching as she pretended to think about it, he felt his dislike for her Buddy growing.

“Not so sure about making brooms exclusively, but I came to this Academy hoping I could learn more about magical tools. How to make them, improve them.” She chuckled, posture easing into something more relaxed, shoulders a little further back. “I guess that sounds funny to you, since you’re the Emperor Klaus Goldstein, eh?”

The look she gave him, accompanied by a soft, teasing smile made his heart beat a bit faster. He covered it up with a chuckle of his own, idly swinging one foot at a gentle pace. “I believe in you. If you work hard enough and persevere, you can accomplish anything.”

Reece froze for a second, her eyes wide and mouth parted. A blush appeared on her cheeks and she coughed, turning her head to stare out at something, or perhaps, nothing.

“You don’t mean that. There’s no way.” She sounded embarrassed now, and looked it, from how she shifted her weight from one leg to another.

“I do.” Was his only response, quiet and supportive.

They said nothing for a moment, both of them listening and watching the other from differing perspectives. He was surprised when she straightened up, posture resolved, and gave his broom another glance.

“Okay. How do I hop on?” Those words, they almost unseated him.

Regaining himself, he noted the ease of her stance, a spark of confidence in her eyes. With a smile, he shifted his position and offered her a hand up. Reece hesitated before taking it, skin slightly chilled against his own and he wanted to offer his coat to her. Even if he went slow, the probability of her getting even colder was there.

The feeling of her arms around him made that feeling come back - something warm in his chest that defied logic, made him look forward to bringing her closer to the stars. She tightened her grip as they took off, her face burrowing against his back until he steadied them into a glide.

Her laughter filtered back towards him eventually, but when one of her hands pressed against his chest he jumped. Warm fingers slid under the heavy cloth of his coat, skimming over his shirt to stop over his heart.

He swore she had to feel the jump of his pulse.

“Thank you, Klaus.” Was that her nuzzling him? “I needed this.”

His throat tightened, preventing him from responding for a moment.

“Not a problem.” He managed, glancing unnecessarily at the handle of the broom as if to track their path.

Soon, too soon, they stopped and he helped her back onto the balcony. She still kept her collar up, but her hair was a fly-away mess, eyes brighter than he’d seen them in a while.

“How is it you’re single, Klaus?” The question caught him off guard, it must have shown on his face because Reece laughed, loudly enough that he hissed for her to be quiet - he didn’t need the dorm waking up to find them like this.

She stifled her giggles, eyeing him over her hand with a combination of smugness and mirth. He cleared his throat roughly, narrowing his gaze the faintest bit. “What do you mean?”

Dropping her hand, she swayed in place. Suddenly her look was different, as if she were privy to knowledge he was not, the cant of her head and curve of her eyes gaining a mystery that baffled him. Her smile was a woman’s smile, quiet and secret.

“You’re nice underneath that harsh exterior. You’ve gone out of your way to help me, support me, and you even apologize when you think I’m in danger.” Her hand raised, fingers stopping just short of actually touching one of the earrings he’d given her. “And it goes without saying that you’re handsome. Intelligent. Gifted.” Shrugging, Reece put a hand on one hip, still smiling. “So how is it you don’t have a Buddy or a girlfriend?”

“What a rude question.” He tried to sound lofty and mildly offended, even folding his arms for added effect. It didn’t seem to deter her at all, the little minx.

“But you aren’t yelling at me.” She chuckled, folding her arms as if to mock him.

He snorted, quirking a brow at her daring.

She was quiet for a moment before taking a step towards him, reaching out. In his confusion, he didn’t resist when her fingers curled around his forefinger, squeezing once.

“I meant it when I said thank you, Klaus.” This close, he could see the warmer tones in her brown eyes, appreciate how the moonlight darkened her red hair. Where their skin touched made him want to take her hand properly, heat spreading through his chest and down into his belly.

This close, he could see pink on her cheeks, her face tilted up so she could keep eye contact.

This close and he could see the dark smudges around her neck, faded from either age or a healing spell.

The heat inside him went abruptly cold, left the bottom of his stomach feeling as if he were in free fall. Reece squeezed his finger, tighter this time, steady and almost reassuring. When he snapped his eyes back towards her face he couldn’t read the whole of her expression.

She looked calm, but there was a spark in her eyes.

“I promise I’ll be okay.” She spoke slowly, like she wanted him to commit the words to memory. His throat tightened again, for mixed, not altogether different, reasons. “It might not be today, or tomorrow. But I will be okay, Klaus.”

“You shou-” The rest of his sentence was cut off, his finger cold because her hand was over his mouth. Just enough pressure that he couldn’t easily keep talking.

“Let me decide what I can and can’t do, alright? You can’t go and take your encouragement away, just like that you know.” A gleam of her former mirth returned, her index finger tapping his lips.

“Do your part and I’ll do mine. Everybody gets their happy ending, right?”

This wasn’t a fairytale, he wanted to say. This was, perhaps, one of the furthest things from one.

She stared up at him until he forced the muscles in his neck to relax enough to allow a nod. Then, she withdrew her hand.

He thought about stopping her. About taking it, not grabbing, and kissing her palm. If she might let him.

“If you’re certain.” Leaving the statement open, he sat back on his broom. Time was passing, and he knew he’d have to leave soon.

Reece smiled up at him, waving him off.

As he turned to go, he thought, impossibly, that for a moment there had been a butterfly just behind her, flapping golden wings.


	23. Chances Taken - Reece & Klaus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A follow-up to Midnight Cruise, because my friend Jinx (gorecorset) kept saying that Klaus should have kissed the girl. Tess Little is gorecorset's character and is Reece's roomie.

He thought about stopping her. About taking her hand, not grabbing, and kissing her palm. If she might let him.

“If you’re certain.” Leaving the statement open, he sat back on his broom.

Reece’s lips quirked into a smile, no longer slow and careful but something easy and at peace. The expression froze suddenly, her head turning towards the closed door leading back to her room. He was about to ask her what was the matter when he heard it for himself.

Singing.

Peeking from around the curtain which prevented someone from seeing into their room was Reece’s roommate, Tess Little, if he recalled correctly. The girl was grinning at them both, or perhaps Reece specifically, and singing what sounded like a song from a film.

Heat on his cheeks threatened his composure when he realized exactly what Little was singing, her voice thick with a slurring accent. A distinct, jaunty melody. About kissing a girl.

“Tess, I swear I’m gonna get you for this!” Reece hissed her roommate, taking several steps towards the glass door. She had her hand out, reaching for the handle when the sound of a lock clicking into place reached both their ears. He honestly regretted not being able to see Reece’s expression, but her body language showed surprise, then something close to outrage.

It didn’t take a genius to guess her wand was in her room, inaccessible to her now.

Tess’s cheerful face ducked behind the curtain, leaving the both of them staring at the pale fabric. She returned a moment later, showing Reece something he wasn’t able to see. Whatever it was, it drew a little more of Reece’s temper out. She gave the door a shake, voice dropping low, lower than he thought it could, as she hissed threats at the darker girl. Little, for her part, remained unrepentant and smiling; she let go of the curtain, effectively shutting the redhead out and didn’t return even when Reece called her name.

He slid from his broom, shoes clacking against the stone of the balcony and let the broom rest against the railing for now.

Reece’s shoulders slumped when she heard him, but as she turned to face him he saw a darker pink resting on her cheeks. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, it had even crept down her neck. His lips twitched, but he restrained a smile; expression schooled into nonchalance he folded his arms, resting his weight on his right leg.

“Something the matter?”

She glanced at him and then away, swallowing as she tussled her hair - an unconscious habit, it seemed. One that she used to hide embarrassment, unless he was reading her wrong. Her tone wavered for a second as she began to speak, picking up an edge bravado as she made herself continue. “I-It’s nothing, Klaus. Tess just thinks she’s being funny. You can go on, I’ll think of way to - “

He cut her off, slowly stepping closer until her shoulder tensed and he stopped, hand raised to touch her hair. Her face upturned to look at him, no longer pink but surely red, something wrestling with the shock and embarrassment in her eyes. He waited, unwilling to push too far.

Reece swallowed, licking her lips as she stared up at him, slowly relaxing.

A burst of sound echoed behind her, Little’s voice picking up again with another peppy refrain, “Kiss th’ girl! Sha-la-la-la-la don’t stop now, don’t try to hide it now, you wanna kiss th’ girl!”

Reece closed her eyes and hung her head, forehead thumping against his chest and he found his shoulders shaking with laughter, his previously raised hand now stroking the top of her head. She didn’t tense but she was shaking as he was, her fingers finding hiding holes to curl into as she grasped his coat. She said something, but it was lost as her roommate worked herself up for another delivery, only to be cut off by several exclamations from other rooms- demands that she be quiet and threats of harm if she didn’t stop.

“What was that?” He leaned in, closer to the redhead so that he could hear, so his voice wouldn’t carry. She raised enough that he thought she’d bump into his chin, but she turned aside and their cheeks brushed as she whispered, “I’m going to kill her. I hope don’t mind.”

His snort set her off again and she buried her laughter into his shoulder, holding him tighter.

It shouldn’t have given him as much of a thrill as it did, but the warmth was there and he contend himself with stroking her hair again. The pads of his fingers found small tangles, skimmed over them so it didn’t pull, palm resting against the middle of her back once he reached the ends of her hair. It tickled his hand, and she surprised him by briefly rubbing her face against his coat.

Apparently, she’d gotten herself under control once more - though her eyes still sparkled and her lips kept twitching up at the corners. He could feel the way she fit against him, soft and warming up now, refused to linger on the fact that she was in her nightclothes and he in a suit.

“May I?”

Her eyes dropped from his, down to his lips and then back up; fingers curling just a little tighter into his coat and he could see the muscles in her throat flex with her swallow. She faltered for a long moment, expression torn and he was about to back off, tell it was alright when she spoke.

“O-okay.”

Soft, a little hesitant, but she met his stare evenly.

He leaned in, enjoying how he could feel the heat from her skin and their lips met. It was light at first, but when he felt her relaxed something shifted inside him and caved. His hand against her back brought her closer, other hand coming up to rest towards the the back of her head, fingers burying into her hair. She made a sound, low in her throat and it reminded him that she should stop, should pull back and apologize.

There was a tug on the lapels of his coat and she kissed him back.

From behind the safety of wood and glass, Tess Little broke out into song again, victorious and almost obnoxiously loud, “Whoa-oh! You wanna kiss th’ girl!”

Reece’s fingers loosened for a moment against his coat and her lips drew back from his, like she would pull away, and disappointment rose up inside him. He started to pull back as well, prepared to give Little a warning but lips pressed against his once, twice, three times in quick succession. He groaned softly at the light, quick contact, pressing forward to keep a more sustained kiss this time.

She met him, lips soft and cheeks hot against his and they stayed like that until the need to breathe properly raised its head.

Reece couldn’t seem to look at him, coughing once and curling her lips in as if to hide them, releasing his coat but not moving any further away. One of her hands curled, forefinger raised and her mouth opened like she wanted to speak. She wavered, flushing darker and chuckling at something, perhaps herself, and letting her hand relax against his chest once more.

For his part, he simply watched, chest tight enough to hurt but he found that he didn’t mind. His lips tingled and he wanted to kiss her again. Slowly, deep enough to steal her breath.

Could she feel how his heart was beating too fast, or was that hers?

“I uh…” Her voice was husky, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. One of her fingers tapped his chest, as if counting a beat. She swallowed, marshaling something from within and looked up at him with a smile that had a lingering daze at the edges. “I think we should stop here. You.. You’ve got to do Prefect things and I need to get some sleep. For things.”

That last bit made him chuckle, it bubbled out from his chest and up his throat, escaping his lips and making shoulders shake. She thumped him lightly with a hand, ears pink, but her smile hadn’t faded.

“Will your roommate let you sleep?” He didn’t bother to reign in the teasing note in his voice, far too pleased to have her blushing and slightly incoherent in the circle of his arms. Her eyes rolled, exasperation tinging her gaze but she was biting her lip to keep from chuckling again.

“I doubt it, honestly. But you know what? I still have to plot how I’m gonna make her pay for that little number.” Her smile acquired an edge to it, but doubted she would actually cause the other girl any real harm.

“Sleep tight then.” He couldn’t help but lean in, one last time, brushing her lips with his and deeply pleased when she carefully returned the gesture. She hummed as their lips parted, blinking up at him as he stood back, lowering his arms. He missed the contact, but kept himself tall and straight.

“And… we’ll talk about this,” Reece gestured between them, from her flushed face and his warm hands to the feeling of electricity in the air. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea if we don’t, because things are… well, what they are.” Her expression fell, going blank for a second as she peered off to the side. It made his chest twinge to think of Azusa Kuze and what the next day might bring, the thought of the Hinomoto native being able to touch her, even speak to her after what he’d already done stoking embers in his middle.

When she collected herself there was that spark again, like when she’d covered his mouth with her hand, promised him she would be alright.

“But we’ll see, okay? Whatever this is.” She smiled, now careful, but warm nonetheless and he resolved himself to wait.

He would, even after they dealt with Azusa and the pigeon killings, if that’s what she needed.

The click of a lock from the balcony door seemed loud in the air and Reece tossed a heavy glance towards the ripple of curtains. He took the chance to lift his broom, pouring his magic into it and steadying himself in the air.

“Until tomorrow then.” His voice sounded close enough to normal, he supposed, and when she waved him off he turned towards the boy’s dorm.

His heart rate eventually settled enough to allow him sleep.


	24. My Remedy - Reece & Azusa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Towards the end, before we tip over the cliff. Be warned, this does address the darker aspects of Azusa's route - namely the abusive way he treats MC. If that might cause you problems, please don't read.

He came to pick her up for lunch, as he had the past week and more. The sight of his face, smiling, polite, blue eyes almost appearing to shine when when he spotted her still made her uncomfortable. Her heart rate picked up and her fingers tightened around her bag but she wasn’t going to run. She’d told herself this, over and over, repeated it until she could believe it and now it was time to make it so. His smile faded at the edges a little as she quickened her pace towards him, curving her lips up into a smile of her own.

Usually they didn’t touch nowadays when they went to lunch, but she made it a point to take his slender hand in her own; once more she marveled at his hands, the delicate looking pianist fingers, how different his callouses were from her own. After a moment of initial resistance, he followed her lead. No doubt he’d comment on her willingness to be around him, wonder what game she was playing.

When they reached the North Forest Azusa broke away from her, features wary as he watched her spread out a slightly thicker blanket than usual, extra protection so that they’d be less likely to get moisture on their clothes. Ignoring the look he sent her, Reece busied herself with setting out the sandwiches she’d put together - taking care that he couldn’t see too deeply into her bag.

“What has gotten into you, you strange girl?” Rather than irate, he sounded bemused. It made her look up, seeing how the afternoon light splayed golden rays over his pale skin. It caught in his hair and she was reminded of when they’d first met in the East Forest. When he’d assisted a baby bird into its mother’s nest with a gentle smile.

“I thought you might enjoy something a little lighter for lunch. The food in Gedonelune is heavy, and you mentioned you’d had some trouble eating.” She gestured to the sandwiches before reaching into her bag to dig out the canteen she’d borrowed from a friend at the dorm. Hers had gotten lost, or she’d forgotten to pack it when she’d been hurrying to catch the train, hounded every step by the bossy Acceptance Letter. “Eat up. You’ve been working hard in class from the looks of it.”

“What is that?” Even as he sat, folding his legs with practiced elegance she envied him for, he eyed the canteen in her hands. When she drew out two small cups his brow rose a little further.

“Tea. I couldn’t find anything like Hinomoto black tea, but I did manage to get my hands on some Assam tea leaves.” She shot him a pleased smile as she poured, offering him a cup once he finished nibbling the sandwich he’d plucked without her noticing. Azure eyes lingered on the cup suspiciously, but he took it, sniffed it curiously.

It was cute, the way his mouth twitched and his eyes narrowed a little at the smell of the tea. Reminded her of picky child, almost. He gave it a tiny sip, swallowing after keeping the liquid in his mouth for a moment.

A tiny shiver ran through him and she had to fight back a smile when she offered him some sugar.

“Why you add this stuff is beyond me.” He took another sip of the tea, shutting down her offer with grousing tone. She watched him pick up another sandwich, eyeing the contents between the slices of bread almost curiously before taking a careful, modest bite.

She picked up one of her own, idly bouncing her leg as she ate and drank her tea. It was a little bitter, she conceded, but she thought he’d said that the tea he was used to was even bitterer than this? Maybe it was an acquired taste, which she could understand.

Before coming to the Academy, she’d favored coffee herself.

Azusa dusted crumbs from his fingers, extending his hand away from the blanket as he did so, letting the bits of bread fall into the grass. He waited until she’d swallowed her food before he spoke, that much she was thankful for.

“Care to explain this so-called concern for my well-being?” His eyes were narrow, calculation. Reece took her time dusting off her own hands, away from the blanket as he’d done.

“You didn’t like the herbal tea or the scones.” She managed to keep her tone casual, pushing from her memory what had happened that day, and the ones before it. Tilting her head to the side, feeling the braids of her hair trying to move with her, she looked him in the eye. It wasn’t hard to be concerned, because for all his ice and distance and hate there were deeper bags under his eyes, too much tension in his posture. Even when he was trying to appear relaxed, it gave her the impression of a switch about to be flipped.

“If you don’t want me giving you things that are supposed to help with bad dreams, I figured maybe something lighter on your stomach might be better.” Letting her eyes drop, Reece studied her stockings for a moment, tempted to pick at the fabric out of a childhood habit.

In response, he gave her a sneer. “Do you think I’ll consider you a good person if you go on spouting idealistic lies like that? What do you want, me to say that I love you? That I forgive you?” He’d risen after the first sentence, a glint in his eyes that reminded her of when he’d held her to the tree.

She couldn’t control the fear and disgust the memory brought up, how the nausea rolled in her stomach. What she could do was not let it dominate everything, so she took in a slow inhale to ground herself rather than back away from him like she wanted to do.

Her hands had tightened against her legs, and she felt how pale she’d gone. He was almost invading her personal space, his broad shoulders bunched like he might dart forward.

“I can’t want that, because the person said those words isn’t the man in front of me.” Her voice quivered at the beginning, and she hated it, but made herself keep going. The borderline hostility left his face for a moment, leaving him open, wounded and confused. Swallowing, Reece pushed on. “I’m doing what I want, because this is who I am. I want to help people. Maybe I can’t solve all their problems, but maybe I can keep them from hurting themselves.”

At that, his expression stiffened. Something close to rage boiled under the surface of his eyes, the cruel glint returning.

Before he had the chance to speak however, Reece reached out and tucked a loose part of his hair behind his ear. It froze him, and she counted that as a victory. His hair was smooth under her fingers, softer than hers but not silky. Her fingertips touched the beginning of the braid at the middle of his skull and she traced it out of curiosity.

This close, there wasn’t much opportunity to hide from one another; as uncomfortable as it made her, even she could see what it did to him.

Azusa jerked back with a noise akin to a snarl, nearly toppling off the blanket with the sudden motion. Reece stayed as she was, momentarily mesmerized by the light reflecting off the pendant he wore.

The butterfly remained inert, captured in crystal, but in the sunlight it almost looked blindingly beautiful and fragile.

“You’re stupid.” He hissed, features tight with something - she wasn’t sure if it was anger or if it was pain. “You’ll only get taken advantage of, thinking like that. And then where will you be? Do you think someone would come to save someone as weak and pathetic as you?”

Anger rose in her chest, bright and hot, followed by the sting of his words. It hurt, it did. He knew it. It would be easy to give in to her temper, to dash out the retorts coating the back of her throat.

But that wasn’t what she wanted, not enough to sacrifice the parts of herself she’d built back up.

“What’s wrong with being weak sometimes?” She left the question hanging in the air, not really looking for answer.

She turned her side to him as she reached for her bag, hearing him move but making herself focus on what she was looking for. Drawing out a carefully wrapped box, she raised her eyes, honestly surprised to still see him sitting there. He’d put distance between them, remained stiff and as if he were ready to flee.

“I made some sweets.” He glanced, briefly, at the box she offered him. His brow creased when he saw what was inside, a muscle twitching in his neck. She tried to sound casual, keeping the offering steady between them. “They probably don’t look that good, but I tried to make the ones you said you liked.”

Truthfully it’d been an experience, trying to make the flower-shaped sweets he’d described as his favorites from home. The housemother had stared at her strangely for a minute when she’d asked for the ingredients, even more when she’d tried to actually make them.

At least one was lumpy, another definitely malformed, but she felt moderately proud of the rest. They looked something like flowers, to an extent.

“They’re hideous. Trying to poison me if you can’t win me over?” The jibe felt weak, compared to his earlier ones, the way he examined her face made her wonder if he’d run out of ammunition.

“I’ll have you know I worked hard on these.” She stated, letting some fire into her voice. “Even checked out a book from the library on how to make them and copied the recipe.”

Whether because he was homesick or she’d beaten him, he did take one. He held it up to examine it, ignoring her as she set the box down and took one for herself. When he bit into it, surprise moved over his features.

“How is it?” She rolled hers in her palm, a little put off by its bulging shape.

“Terrible.” He said it almost offhand, betraying himself by eating the rest.


	25. Mending - Reece & Azusa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A year or so later after the conclusion of Azusa's route.

“Azusa?” Her voice is soft, lacking its usual energy. She doesn’t look away from him when he meets her eye, but she does shift from side to side. Her hands remain at her sides, but her posture is hesitant, as though she isn’t sure what he’ll say. What he’ll do.

“Yes?” He lets his brow quirk, mind working. Was she ill again, as she seemed to get as the seasons changed? Had something happened in class?

Reece’s lips thin, her throat working as she swallowed. He feels the temptation to ask her what’s wrong, but that has the possibility of pushing her away. It was the first time she’d reached out to him in.. well, since the previous semester.

The fact that she was addressing him, perhaps for support, made him have a little hope that they might be getting better. Together.

“May I kiss you?”

He blinked. His mouth went a little dry and without his bidding the memory of their last kiss came to mind: in the Prefect’s office after the Nue had been destroyed.

“What?”

Reece averted her gaze, fingers curling around the edge of her cloak. He wanted to curse, at himself for being a fool.

“I wanted to ask, rather than just doing it.” Her eyes rose to meet his and he felt a twist in his stomach at the look she gave him. Part hopeful, largely uneasy.

He thought about it, weighed the progress they’d made thus far and found it wasn’t much of a question at all.

“You’ll need to straighten up if you want a kiss.” He didn’t smirk, but the suggestion was there in the twitch of his lips and the curve of his eyes. Reece huffed, eyeing him beneath her lashes but her cheeks were a little pink.

“Or you could just bend down, you jerk.” Her tone warmed now, teasing and it almost drew a chuckle out of him.

“Fine. Though it’s hardly my fault you haven’t grown an inch.” She didn’t flinch when he stepped close, but he stopped leaning in about halfway, watching her. Making sure.

Reece surprised him by closing the distance herself, uniform brushing his and her lips pressing gently against his own. She was warm, and he knew that if he put an arm around her she would be soft and fit against him pleasantly.

His hands trembled, one frozen midair, wanting to touch but stopping short.

He pressed back into the kiss, light and careful - caution temporarily broken when he felt a tug on his sleeve, her fingers curling slowly around his wrist and drawing his arm up, guiding it around her back. She let go once he moved on his own, forearm resting carefully against the small of her back.

Her fingers slid between his, drawing his other hand away from her head and simply holding it.

Something prickled in the back of his throat, accompanied by a clench in his stomach. He held on, held her, and pressed a second kiss to her lips.


	26. After Hours - Luca & Elias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fun. My first Lulias fic.

“Was it that bad?” Luca posed the question with more than a little curiosity, watching as Elias tugged at the knot of his tie in agitation. The blond’s eyes were darting about, voice lowered as he muttered to himself. Elias’ attention on his rant seemed to break at the sound of the other man’s voice, as he glanced up and blinked.

He could practically see the gears in the shorter man’s head turn as he processed the question.

“N-no.. I don’t suppose it was.” Violet eyes turned away, not focusing on any one object as they resumed roaming Luca’s, admittedly bare, dorm room.

Believing that about as much as a bystander might think the Academy’s lake was purple, the older student swung his legs over the side of his bed and slowly pushed himself up. Elias froze mid-stride, eyeing him as he rose.

Hand on hip, Luca gave his visitor a once over, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll guess. The Headmaster said no to your research?”

Pink surfaced on Elias’ cheeks, adorably obvious against his pale skin. A stutter emerged from between the wound-up man’s lips, “N-no! H-he only s-said that i-it might take some consideration before it c-could be approved!” The slim shoulders drew themselves up, like Elias was bracing himself for a blow, verbal or physical.

Luca dropped the smile, easing his way into Elias’ personal space. The blond didn’t flinch when he ran his fingers through the golden fringe obscuring one violet eye, tucking it back behind his ear. “So what’s the problem?”

“I-I don’t… There isn’t…” Elias couldn’t seem to find any words, staring back at the green haired man standing so close.

“I think I know what it is…” Luca left the sentence hanging, tilting his head, eyes dropping their stare towards the floor. His hand lingered by Elias’ ear, thumb idly stroking the thin skin of the shell.

Elias swallowed, looking torn between moving away or listening. The taller student waited, counting the seconds as his partner debated with curiosity. Finally, Elias’ shoulders lowered, a hesitant note present in his voice telling the almost professional slacker just how nervous he was about this.

“W-what?”

The hand by the small, blushing ear moved, palm slowly covering startled eyes, trapping Elias in darkness. Luca suppressed a laugh as Elias’ eyelashes tickled his hand, wrapping his free arm around the shuffling man’s back and pulling him in.

Tilting his head, lips brushing Elias’ other ear, Luca kept his voice low as he whispered, “You’re over thinking.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment as the youngest Goldstein shivered and scrambled for words, face aflame with heat and hands poised as if to push the other man away but frozen.

“Want me to make it better, Elias?” Luca offered, enjoying how flustered the blond was, sure that Elias would snap at him, do the usual stage act of pushing him off.

It surprised him just as much when Elias swallowed instead, hands finding Luca’s biceps and resting there. A quiet, throaty “yes” stuttered out into the air between them.

Once he regained himself, Luca felt a wide grin stretch over his face, shoulders shaking as he turned his head.

Rather than brushing his ear, or the flushed skin of his neck, he planted a slow, teasing kiss on Elias’ parted lips.


	27. Mooching - Luca & Yukiya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why Elias' candy house went missing. My first Yukiya/Luca fic.

“That isn’t for you.” The voice makes the green haired boy turn, blinking amused eyes at the source - one Yukiya Reizen, staring him down with disapproval apparent on his otherwise impassive face. Luca’s teeth slowly bared down on the bit of cookie between his lips, drawing out the crunch and crumble of the sweet. Yukiya’s eye narrows the faintest bit as the other boy chews, pink tongue cleaning long fingers of crumbs.

The candy house is missing a wall and part of the roof, the modest interior constructed of sweets picked thoroughly clean.

Yukiya might even be slightly impressed, seeing as he’d only turned his back long enough to wash his hands and look for a piece of paper to make a note for Elias. His roommate wasn’t due back for another hour and a half, marching like a man facing the guillotine to his older sibling’s Special Training.

The Academy’s chief truant sent the blue haired boy a smirk once he’d swallowed, twirling a piece of candy between his fingers. “I didn’t see anyone’s name on it. Makes it fair game, right?”

Few people had the strength to look unaffected by Yukiya’s focused stare, particularly when he allowed displeasure to show on his face. Luca proceeded to offer the chocolate bark to the other boy, eyes bright with mischief. “It’s not like he’s going to know it was you or me. Could have just as easily been his brother’s familiar that took it, since the Emperor has a sweet tooth himself.”

It went unsaid that Klaus Goldstein also seemed to experience a sort of sadistic amusement in taking his little brother’s sweets, which might account for some of the mutterings that Elias’ roommate and sort-of rival heard at night.

“I made it to cheer him up.” Yukiya closed the distance between them quick enough to make Luca’s green eyes widen, but the slightly taller boy didn’t back away like others might have.

Rather, a sardonic expression twisted the older boy’s features, smile vaguely unpleasant upon closer inspection.

“If you aren’t careful, people will start to think you’re trying to replace his brother. Wouldn’t want that, right Yukiya?”

Yukiya’s hand froze on its way to pluck the sweet from between the other’s fingers, brown eye blinking once and scrutinizing the underlying parts of the jibe. A brief tug liberated the bark, now soft from Luca’s body heat and beginning to melt.

It wasn’t like the house could be saved at this point, and feeling the way Luca stiffened in surprise as he pressed their mouths together was a working start towards payback.

The other boy’s lips were sweet from the stolen candy and Luca parted them easily enough when Yukiya nudged at them with his tongue, free hand cupping the back of the taller boy’s head. Their tongues met, he tried to catch the other’s with his own but moaned when Luca pressed closer, sucking on the slick muscle.

When they parted, Yukiya got revenge by sliding the chocolate bark into the prankster’s mouth, smearing chocolate over his lips. Luca grunted, rolling the bark over his tongue and chewing it slowly so as not to choke.

The younger male with the eyepatch simply licked his fingers clean, unrepentant. “No need to be jealous. He’s my friend and you know that.”

Green eyes narrowed, mostly in jest, and Yukiya found his mouth full of melting chocolate and Luca’s tongue.


	28. Unexpected - Elias & Luca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by robancrow's drawing of Luca with a manbun.

He’d only meant to grab a quick bath before curfew, deciding that braving what evening people remained for a bath was less of a worry than going to bed dirty from training. With towel on his arm, Elias headed for the shower room, opening the door as quietly as possible and without thinking to check if anyone might be inside.

When someone cleared their throat, he looked up and felt his eyes go round as saucers.

Luca Orlem stood before one of the mirrors, arms raised and fingers tying off the messiest bun Elias had ever seen at the top of his head. Water glistened off the taller boy’s skin, heat turning his cheeks, neck and chest pink.

Green eyes curved in amusement as the youngest Goldstein sputtered, backing into the now closed door behind him, ignoring how the knob dug into his back.

The only article of clothing on the troublemaker’s body was a pair of short shorts with bolded whited text on the bottom proclaiming, ‘ARE YOU NASTY?’

In his attempt to clear his throat enough to speak, Elias choked on his own saliva, coughing as Luca started to laugh, loud and hard. “What’s the matter, Prince Elias? Don’t like my casual wear?”

The blond shut his eyes, reigning in his mortification as best he could. When he opened them again, he kept his gaze well above Luca’s navel. “Shut up! I just came in to get clean is all, it has nothing to do with you!”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Was the only response, Luca turning back to the mirror to finish… whatever he was doing.

Elias tried to edge by, seeking an empty stall far enough away that the other student wouldn’t see him undress. Satisfied with the next to last one, he slipped in quickly and shoved off his nightclothes.

From outside the stall, he heard Luca’s voice drift back towards him.

“Maybe next time I’m in town I’ll buy you some, Elias. They might give you a little more color.”

The sound of the door opening hardly registered as he thrust his head out of the stall, intent on snapping at the older boy - only for Luca to whistle at him as he leaned out of the shower stall, bare as the day he was born.

“Get out already! Don’t you have anyone else to start trouble with?!” Ducking back into the stall, he resisted the urge to fold his arms and curl in a little.

“Yeah yeah. Enjoy your shower.”

The door closed, but he waited another few minutes before pushing his clothes out of the stall to turn on the water.


	29. Another Home - Elias & Mami

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asunafairy on Tumblr asked that I write something for the ending of Elias' Battle route based around what he and MC might get up to before bed. It got really long, heh.

The rain left them both shivering, clothes plastered to their bodies and laughing somewhat uncontrollably as she finally got the front door open and the two of them hurried inside. She helped Elias with his luggage, hands slick and when she slipped he caught her and helped her up. Closing the door once they were all inside, Mami took a moment to brush loose, wet hair from her face. Elias was looking around, breath slowly evening out into a steady pace; curiosity made his eyes bright and she would almost swear that he was a step from beaming.

Her home was small, admittedly, cluttered with things she hadn’t been able to clean up after the Acceptance Letter had come and herded her onto the train. Enchanted lamps flickered to life in their presence, filling the otherwise dim space with soft light in shades of orange, blue and purple. Unfortunately, it was chilly, and even Elias was shivering a little in his suit.

“Sorry, I didn’t think the sky would just open up like that.” Rubbing her hands on her skirt did little good, soaked as the fabric was, but she gave her guest a sheepish smile as she carefully stepped around him.

Elias followed her, absolutely taken with the tiny knick-knacks strewn over her worktable – books she’d left open, several pens, a few crumpled sketches of things she couldn’t remember anymore. In the half-light cast by the sparse lamps, he looked a little paler than usual.

“That’s alright. I’m only glad we got everything in. Do you think..” He trailed off, expression hesitant, and that’s what made her pause as she was opening the grate to the fireplace. Elias glanced back towards the door, and softly continued, “Do you think they liked me?”

Something in her chest softened at the look on his face, the uncertainty of his voice. Leaving the hearth as it was, Mami stepped carefully over the stack of wood someone had been kind enough to leave. His eyes turned towards her as she came closer and some of the tension left his body when she gently squeezed his arm. Since they were nearly the same height, she used it to her advantage, keeping his gaze on hers as she smiled. “Of course they did. You’re kind, well-mannered and you fixed that little girl’s toy without being asked.”

To emphasize her point, she winked at him, smile turning playful. “You’re practically family now, and before you know it they won’t leave you alone.”

A bit of red crept into his cheeks, but he seemed relieved. One of his hands slowly covered the one she had on his arm, skin chill but his fingers took hers and squeezed them with care. “Th-thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You did this all on your own.” She squeezed back once before gently slipping away from the touch, trying not to shiver too much. Once back at the hearth she set several pieces of wood inside the hollow, only having to negotiate once with a sleepy spider that had made his home amongst the stack.

“It isn’t enchanted?” Elias’ voice came closer, the sound of his feet quieter now that he’d shed his shoes. She glanced up at him, shaking her head as she pulled out her wand. “No, only certain things in the house are – like the lamps. They’ll turn on if someone who’s welcome comes in, but they don’t give off any warmth. My mother liked having a fireplace, and she told my dad that she preferred the old fashioned way of lighting it.” With a word, she coaxed a flame into being, hovering at the tip of her wand.

Reaching carefully, she lowered it to the dry wood waiting patiently, watching for sparks. It caught, and the flame spread as she carefully backed away to set the grate in place. The wave of heat was welcome, and she shot Elias a pleased look as he shuffled closer.

“You controlled it well.” His tone lacked the professional tutor quality, but the sentiment was there. He raised one hand towards the fire, relaxing as the warmth began to seep into his skin. Mami quashed the desire to rub her arms, for all her dress was a little thin it had to be worse for Elias, stuck in waterlogged layers as he was.

“Thanks. It should heat up in here pretty soon.” Lifting her head, she looked around for any of the other lights, flicking her wand towards the ones on the staircase and closer to the ceiling. They lit, glass tinting the light into other colors, pushing away the dark. Outside, the rain was still coming down like it intended to flood the river – she hoped it wouldn’t. She wanted to send the lanterns for her parents at the festival, and if the river swelled too much it could be dangerous to go near.

“Elias?” He turned his head towards her voice, blinking slowly as if in a daze. She tried not to giggle, because that could make him upset. “I can start a bath for you if you’d like. It might warm you up faster and you can change into something dry.”

Red flooded his cheeks, but as his eyes swept over her she tried not to swallow.

“Shouldn’t you go first? It is your home and you’re as wet as I am.” His tone held a touch of concern, pushing aside whatever embarrassment that had made him look uncomfortable before.

“You’re my guest, silly.” Her lips twitched upwards, eyes soft. “We’re both cold, I’ll give you that, but I can get this place presentable while you’re warming up.”

His eyes moved beyond her, taking in the pictures on the walls, the dried herbs, her worktable – untouched as if she’d stepped away for only a moment rather than almost a year. His expression softened, and part of her wondered why he looked almost wistful.

“There isn’t really a mess, Mami. You don’t have to catch a cold for my sake, you know.” Violet irises fixed on her again and she felt her face turn a little pink. He folded his arms, not as tightly as usual, but his tone was firm. “Go take a bath. I can stay here and be fine.”

As the look on his face was set, she decided to concede, sheepishly glancing behind her at the trail of water they’d tracked in. When she turned back to him, he remained the same – kind, gentlemanly Elias, and she nodded. “If you ask the green teapot in the kitchen they’ll make you some tea. There might be something to have with it, if you like.”

His eyes lit up at that, despite his best efforts. Then, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Talk to it?”

With a chuckle, Mami nodded, waving for him to follow as she made her way to the kitchen. Thankfully there wasn’t any dust, she’d have to come up with something to thank the one responsible somehow. The teapot in question was an old thing, but it stirred to life when she spoke to it. The magic driving it made it nudge the kettle, and it lent itself to her hand so she could fill it up.

“Dad enchanted it because mom helped take care of people who were sick, and her hands weren’t always free to brew tea if she needed it.” The sound of running water helped fill the silence, the almost questioning air surrounding her guest. “It took him a while, but he eventually managed to get it like this – but you still have to pick the tea yourself, of course.”

Turning off the water and lighting the stove, she set the kettle down. The cabinet with all her tea was still intact, no spiders or mice come to spin a home or take a nibble. Some of the tins looked a little worse for wear, but Elias took it from her hand gently.

“I think I can manage this much. You go take your bath.” His face was pink, but he gave a quirk of his lips when she hesitated.

“Alright. Call if you need something.”

He sputtered a bit at that, but she left him be, taking the stairs slowly and stopping by the linen closet to grab a towel. She ducked into her room to grab spare clothes, unwilling to embarrass herself by running around in a towel with a young man in her house.

The thought stuck and Mami found herself laughing quietly as she filled the tub.

It felt great to sink into the tub once the water was hot enough, and she took a moment to relax in it. Once she adjusted to the temperature, she slowly slid her face beneath the surface, making small waves as she tussled her umber hair underwater. Dark brown and blonde tickled her face as it moved, when she came up for breath she gathered the saturated strands up and bound them with a tie.

Nice as it was to be home and letting the heat soak in, she washed quickly. It didn’t seem fair to keep Elias waiting, for all he might protest.

Done and draining the tub, she cleaned it, let the water get hot again before filling the tub back up. Satisfied, she made quick work of drying off and combing out her hair, tying it back up rather than leaving it loose as she had before. Changing into her spare clothes made her realize how she’d grown while at the Academy, the shirt a little tight across the shoulders. The hem of her pants no longer covered her ankles entirely, but they still fit.

All it took was grabbing a clean towel and she was headed downstairs, pausing when she saw Elias with one of her father’s old books in hand, forgotten as he looked at a picture of her parents. He’d regained a little color, she was pleased to see; his eyes sweeping up to her when she slowly came down the stairs. Almost guiltily he put the book back by the picture, clearing his throat.

“Feel better?” He kept his eyes on her face, though he did glance at her hair once.

“Much. Bath’s all ready for you, first door on the right.” Offering him the towel, smiling as he fumbled in taking it. He carried a change of clothes with him up the stairs, and once he was gone she turned to the picture he’d been looking at.

Her parent’s faces smiled back, immortalized. Her mother’s thick braids had been long enough to reach the small of her back then, and her father hadn’t had as many grays in his hair. Lifting a hand to her mouth, she pressed a kiss to her fingers and then to the thin glass protecting the photograph.

“I’m home for a little now, so behave. Okay?”

 

She’d wanted to give Elias her parent’s room to sleep in once they got back from the festival, but in the aftermath of their kiss she wasn’t sure she wanted to sleep alone. Though the bed was larger than her own, he’d stuttered out a decline, eyes darting off into a corner of the den.

“I-I’d rather stay with you, i-if that’s alright.”

Mami tried not to think of what some of her extended family in the village might say if they heard this, but she was nearly certain that most of them were wholly convinced that Elias was her boyfriend – he was now, she supposed, giddiness washing over her once more at the thought.

When she’d lead him to her room after they’d eaten dinner and laughed for a bit about some of the stories she’d thought to tell, he’d turned red, but looked around when he thought she couldn’t see. The walls were pale except for one, painted to look like a tree growing from the floor up towards the ceiling. She’d stared at it often, after her parents passed, tried to imagine climbing the branches until she sat towards the top, overlooking a sea of stars made from the village’s lights.

As she’d moved to draw the curtains over the windows, she heard Elias slowly move about. He lingered by the wall with the tree, she saw from the corner of her eye, before pausing by the small desk she’d bought to house some of her other work. The wood was old, chipped and beaten in some places, but the drawers opened smoothly and she’d never had a problem with termites.

She was infinitely glad he wouldn’t get to see her stuffed unicorn, as she’d packed that away in the closet before she’d left for the Academy.

“I know its small, and you’re used to better places, but it holds heat in and its comfortable.” Mami tried to smile, to swallow the slow creeping shyness that wanted to branch out until it filled all of her. It was just Elias, she told herself. The same Elias she’d gone to classes with, taking tutoring from to improve her magic, the very same young man who’d been unable to sleep because he was so excited to be invited to her home for break. The same one who’d confessed his feelings in her house’s entryway and kissed her until she thought she might float away.

Amelia Nile would beat her with a pillow if she knew about this.

“Its more than comfortable.” Tone warm, he looked at her, a smile on his face. “Its perfect, really because its you.”

For a guy whose blush could start small fires, he somehow knew how to make her heart beat a little faster. She returned the smile, chuckling a little. “Would you rather be by the wall or on the side?”

He blinked, not quite catching her meaning until his gaze fell to the modest bed by her side, covers drawn up towards the pillows. Heat crept into his face, and hers, but he came closer and reached up to carefully untie her hair. The sudden closeness and the warmth of his fingers made her shiver, eyes almost closing as he rubbed gentle circles into her scalp.

His voice drew her out of the small daze, careful but sincere. “I can stay by the wall, if you like.”

Tipping her head forward, she had to shuffle a little closer to rest her head on his shoulder. She heard him swallow, but his fingers kept moving through her hair and she worked up the bravery to put her arms around him, fingers interlacing at the small of his back.

“Okay.” Was all she said, relaxing under the tender treatment.

“If you fall asleep on me then we’ll both be on the floor.” Humor laced his voice, but it was the softest she’d heard him speak since earlier. Rousing herself, she stepped back, missing his warmth instantly. For a second, she thought he looked disappointed too, but then he looked away.

“Then you better climb in, silly.” She chuckled, moving to pull down the layers of blankets so that he could slide between them. It still amused her that he wore a shirt even to bed, thinner than the ones he wore during the day, and loose pajama bottoms. He’d changed in the bathroom, and she’d quickly done so in her parent’s room so that he wouldn’t come out to see her nude in the hallway.

For the chill and having him be with her she’d decided not to go her usual route, mimicking his choice of clothes for sleep.

Once he’d settled she crawled in, shivering as the sheet absorbed her heat and trying not to stiffen at the unfamiliar presence in the bed. Elias held himself still, like a board, and she wanted to ask if he’d changed his mind, would rather sleep by the side or take her parent’s bed after all.

“Are you alright?” In the dark, able to see only his outline, the question seemed small and uncertain – he shared her nervousness, it seemed.

“Yeah. Are you though?” There was rustling as she stirred, mirrored when he shifted to look at her. It might have been her imagination, but she thought she saw a gleam in his eyes for a second. Something warm brushed against her leg and she jumped, smothering a laugh at herself when Elias pulled his leg back sheepishly.

“W-what’s so funny?” Not quite indignant, but getting there, the mattress dipped as though he intended to sit up.

Mami reached out, finding his shoulder with a bit of fumbling and pulled him back down – closer than she’d intended, as their noses brushed and she felt heat blooming on her face. One of his arms slid around her, cautious but warm, and she did the same.

“We are. You’ve got to admit, we’re bumping around each other like tiny chicks in the dark.” Keeping her voice soft, she laughed again. After a moment, he joined her, breath ghosting over her skin.

“I-I suppose we are. Do you mind?”

Shaking her head, Mami carefully burrowed a little further under the covers. It wasn’t so bad, being like this. And they already liked each other so…

“I think its natural.” Contemplative, she paused for a moment. “This is the closest we’ve been, ever, I think. So we’ll get used to it, eventually.”

His hair rustled over the pillow as he nodded, or she thought he nodded. It was hard to say.

“M-may I ask you something?” Was it just her or was he closer than before?

“Sure.”

“I-If you d-don’t mind, c-could you turn the other way so I can hold you?” The last bit was said in a rush, and with their close proximity she could feel the heat off his skin. But the request was touching, and very like him so she didn’t mind.

“One second.” Unhooking her arm and feeling him do the same, she rose slowly and shivered as the blankets slipped and some of the night air crept in. Hastily laying back down, drawing the disturbed covers back up, she felt Elias wind an arm around her waist from behind. He moved closer, chest against her back and buried his nose by her neck, hair tickling her skin where it made contact.

She felt like giggling, but shifted to press back against him. His arm tightened for a moment, carefully, then slowly relaxed and she felt him exhale. Tension seemed to drain out of him, and his breathing evened out.

In spite of the newness of the situation, she felt sleep dragging at her as well, eyelids suddenly heavy now that they were relaxing and comfortable.

“Goodnight Elias.”

He responded with a murmur against her skin, words indistinct and she chuckled as she fell asleep.


	30. Agree to Disagree - Randolph & Schuyler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you gotta put your foot down.

“I hope you do realize that this is the second time.” Randolph’s voice filled the air without him having to raise it much, the Headmaster’s office quieter than the halls outside, than the thoughts swirling around in Conrad’s brain. Brown eyes had lost some of their jovial glint, having become stern with the current circumstances.

“I do. Luca is currently in the detention center, as you know.” Conrad kept his voice level, arms loosely folding against his middle. It still galled him that Luca had tried, again, to enter the East Forest and reach the Tower of Sorrows. Not just that, but the boy had openly neglected his classes, did no homework, and freely ignored the rules about curfew.

And that was before one even touched on the subject of illegal visits paid to the town on the outskirts of the Academy’s grounds.

If he were absolutely honest with himself, he’d been afraid he would lose Luca on one of those forbidden outings – that his charge would disappear, faceless, into the streets and not come back.

That was part of the reason he’d bound Luca’s magic before leaving him in the detention cell, confiscating his wand as well before leaving.

“The first time he dared the Forest I was inclined to believe you when you promised it would not happen again, Conrad.” Randolph’s arms were also folded, but his posture was straight as an arrow. One finger tapped against the dark blue of his Headmaster’s coat, the ring on that digit flashing in the light.

He’d been around the taller man long enough to recognize the gesture for the irritation it concealed, felt his body want to stiffen in response.

“I didn’t think he would try again.” The black haired professor admitted, his tone almost contrite for a moment. “Without hearing the song, he would never make it to the Tower. I had thought that, and the defensive spells, to be enough.” It should have been. Perhaps, it it were anyone besides Luca, it would be enough to convince someone to turn back.

“And yet here we are, for the second time. He made more progress, I’ll admit, and it is a testament to his improvement.” For a moment, Randolph closed his eyes, chest expanding as he breathed. When he opened them again, his expression turned grim. “But I will not tolerate his antics any further, Conrad. If Luca will not abide by the rules of the Academy then he must go.”

The shorter man felt his chest tighten, anger making his fingers tighten against his arms for a second. Keeping his expression blank, he slowly raised a brow at the older man. “And where will he go? There is nowhere else he would have been safe except for here, and my role as one of the Three Mages keeps me in this place.”

Randolph was not a man to shrug, and he didn’t. Rather, his eyes darkened just slightly and what he said was worse. “That, unfortunate as it may be, is not something I need concern myself with. Luca is intelligent enough that he might find his own way, something you should give him credit for.”

“He is naive, full of himself and immature.” Schuyler’s voice cut through the last of the Headmaster’s statement, charged with conflicting emotions. His expression twisted, caught between anger and something else. “If he walked out of this campus he would have nothing except for me. I won’t let you turn him out in such a manner.”

“Conrad.” Despite his soft tone, there was a threat present in the taller man’s voice. The fact that Randolph was letting him hear it rather than simply waiting to strike ought to mean something. Shouldn’t it? “As you’ve said, you are one of the Three. It is your duty to guard the Tower and the Dragon.” He paused, a sigh leaving his broad chest. “I understand what fulfilling your promise means to you. I do, my friend. But that must come second to your oath as a Mage.”

“Then consider this my resignation.” His voice matched the quiet threat in the Headmaster’s words, and he drew himself up to his full height. It only brought him about an inch closer to the other’s height, but he didn’t blink once. “If Luca leaves, then I go with him. That, _my friend_ , is final.”

Shock registered temporarily in the brunet’s face, and Schuyler felt a stab of pride that he could throw the great Mage off balance.

They stared at one another for several moments, silent and calculating. Brown eyes studied the younger man’s face, seeing only the determination to follow through with the threat. For his part, Schuyler couldn’t find any tells in the elder Mage’s body language – appearing for all the world relaxed as if they were discussing a student’s essay from a class.

He felt wound too tight, eager to have the conversation done with, yet dreading the conclusion.

To break his Oath as one of the Three Mages… He wouldn’t be surprised if Randolph found it appropriate to erase him. He knew too much, knew the path to the Tower and the Dragon of Time, knew about Randolph’s little secret. Both of them.

His wand was in his breast pocket, pressing a line into his chest.

If it came down to it, would he reach it in time?

Unexpectedly, Randolph’s face broke out into a reserved smile, a weary chuckle leaving the man’s mouth. Schuyler felt his eyes go a little round before narrowing, waiting out the sudden burst of humor.

“Relax, Conrad. I won’t resolve this by force, so you don’t have to wear that face anymore.” Mirth sparkled in the depths of dark irises, and the black haired man forced himself not to snort.

“What face?” He scowled.

“It doesn’t matter.” Regaining himself, Randolph let the smile drop. “I can’t replace you. You know that. As for Luca…” Here the man trailed off, eyes closing as he thought. When he came to a decision, he seemed as if he were willing to compromise. “I will allow him to stay as a student. This time, understand?”

“I do.” Relief burst through his chest, though he kept it from his face. Even so, the older man chortled, quite likely at him – for all that rankled his nerves.

“Go to bed, Conrad. I’ll see you in the morning.” Turning back to his desk, the brunet waited as the other professor slowly moved, complying with the clear dismissal.

Randolph let himself sigh, looking out the window of his office and watching the tops of the trees move.


	31. A Little Short - Elias & Mami

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elias watches his son sleep, trying to ponder what the future might bring.

“Elias?” Her voice reached him, heavy with sleep and soft so as not to wake their baby. Sheets rustled as she moved, but he didn’t look.

His eyes were fixed on the tiny figure within the crib, limbs splayed and occasionally twitching. Dark gold tufts of hair were turned silver in what moonlight crept through - he dreaded the day the soft tresses might fall out as the infant grew.

Warm arms slipped around his middle, heat from Mami’s body mingling with his own. Her chin perched on his shoulder, joining him in watching their son sleep away for once.

“Are you still worried?” Her voice being so close sent shivers eagerly running down his back, but he managed a small nod in spite of it.

“There isn’t enough magic in the world to keep him like this, is there?”

Her response was a chuckle, arms gently squeezing him.

“No, there isn’t. He’ll grow up and learn and be as amazed by magic as you are.” her lips briefly touched the skin by his earlobe. “Him and his sister.”

The reminder sent a tinge of scarlet to his ears, but the impossible joy he fwlt outweighed it. Covering one of her hamds with his own, he carefully leaned back against her. “You’re sure we’ll have a girl?”

In the dark the slide of her free hand up his chest, palm covering his heart, was both sensual and reassuring - priceless in intimacy.

“Yeah. And you’re going to be absolutely in love with her. Just like when we had her brother.”

“I’ll still love you, Mami.” He didn’t want her to think that he wouldn’t. Their children were precious, but he’d always have room for her in his heart.

“I love you too Elias.” He felt the smile move over her lips from where she tucked her face against his neck.

Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what their little girl would look like. How they’d raise her with her brother.


	32. Gifts - Yukiya & Delia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delia comes back from a trip to find that Yukiya has brought home something precious to her.

The cloth was soft against her eyes, blocking out the world and leaving her other senses to roam. Their footsteps sounded louder than she remembered. Yukiya’s hands felt especially warm, one at the middle of her back, the other holding her left.

Part of her wondered if this was similar to what his hearing was like. He’d never said outright how keen his senses were, though she’d admit to worrying for him if his hearing matched his sense of smell.

“You’re nervous. Do you want to take a break?” his voice came from higher up, on her left. Delia automatically raised her head to look at him, catching herself as she felt the scarf shift against her skin.

“I’m.. I’m okay.” she disliked the quiver in her tone. She was nervous, but it wasn’t his fault. It might be her imagination, but she thought she felt him looking at her.

Heat crept into her cheeks, and she curled the fingers of her left hand over his. “Being in the dark scares me a little, that’s all. But I trust you, Yukiya.”

It was awkward, trying to smile up at him when she couldn’t see. The hand on her back moved, drawing her in until she was tucked against him. Feeling him, warm and solid, made her relax.

“Almost there.” Above her still, the point of his chin resting light on her head. She felt her lips twitch into a smile.

“Okay. Not going to tell me what the big surprise is?”

A huff, it started in his chest and she felt the puff of air against her head. It turned into a short laugh and her face felt hot again.

“Come on.” he sounded amused.

Pleased she could make him happy, even if it was at her own expense, she moved as he did. Their feet eventually touched stone, and she recognized the smell of the flowers they grew around their home.

Yukiya guided her off the small path, strides careful now that the ground was slightly less steady. Her ears perked, listening for sounds besides the rustle of grass and plants as they passed.

Was something buzzing?

It.. It couldn’t be.

“Hold still for a second. I’m going to untie it, alright?” He’d moved, voice practically by her ear. Gooseflesh broke out over her arms, but she nodded.

He moved, fingers gently untying the knot of cloth at the back of her head. “Keep your eyes closed for a second after I take this off, okay?”

Slight disappointment rose in her chest, but she nodded. Her skin tingled once he lifted the cotton off her face, cooling quickly. As he’d asked she kept her eyes shut, licking her lips once.

She jumped a little when his hands settled on her shoulders, pulse quickening for a second. Yukiya stood behind her, close enough that she could feel his chest against her back.

“Now you can look.”

Delia carefully opened her eyes, first in a squint in case of bright sunlight - then widened them. Their backyard was dedicated to being a garden, the short rows of vegetables as green and healthy as they had been before she’d left on her trip.

Her bees. All three of the habitats were spread out before her, pristine as can be.

One drifted out of the central unit, wings almost invisible to her eyes. Its white and black body bobbed gently as it passed, the air carrying its tiny greeting to her ears.

“You brought them.” her throat felt thick, the backs of her eyes prickling a little. Yukiya’s hands squeezed her shoulders gently, slowly moving down and off her arms. He wound his arms between hers, around her waist and pulled her back against him.

“They’re like your family.” For a moment, he didn’t say anything else. She covered his hands with her own, feeling herself smile like a fool.

“Thank you, Yukiya.” Tipping her head back, she turned her face towards him. He seemed to catch her intention, meeting her for a kiss.

When they finally parted, both of them were a little pink-cheeked. Yukiya was smiling, his eye bright as it curved up at the corner. “Welcome home.”


	33. As Long As You're Here - Serge Durandal & Taffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to rectify some of the things in Randy's Battle route and fountains of Taffy abuse. This takes place shortly after the summoning of the Basilisk in Randy's route and what happened there.

“Taffy?” he kept his voice soft, squinting a little in the dimness of his room. It was a temporary space, but with any luck he’d be close to the next station. Then, it was further out, far from Gedonelune.

Having no clear answer for where he was going could be frightening, but it was no less than what he deserved.

“Taffy? Where are you?” With a careful flick of his wand, a tiny orb of light gathered at the tip.

He tried not to think of how his best friend might have applauded. Not everyone could summon a light spell by thought and will, negating the incantation entirely.

A rustling came from under the bed, the easiest and most obvious place someone of his familiar’s height could hide in a pinch. Or a fit of fright.

As he was about to kneel, already twisting his head to look under the bed frame, a small brown head poked out from the darker shadows. Taffy’s button eyes had tears clinging to them, the fur around the area dampened.

His familiar’s long ears were dropping and dust bunnies clung to his soft body all over. The sight made his heart twist.

“M-ma-master?” Tiny plush arms pulled him forward, closer to the source of light and familiar voice.

Forcing his lips up into a smile, he reached out to help. Taffy’s fur was still soft to the touch, but the fabric of his vest was grainy. “Yes Taffy, it’s me. There won’t be anyone else coming in to yell at us tonight.”

If he’d been worried that his familiar wouldn’t come closer, those feelings were swept aside when the little bear put on a burst of speed. The pink haired wizard hardly felt the impact when Taffy collided awkwardly with his chest, though he did close an eye to avoid it being slapped by the bear’s too-long ear.

“Master! Me was so scared! Loud noises and mean people scare Taffy!” Moisture began to seep into his collar as Taffy cried, soft arms trying to wrap around his neck.

Supporting his familiar with his free arm, Serge carefully worked himself up to stand. Flicking his wand once more, the small orb bounced away to occupy the lamp close by the bed. In the brighter light, his eyes could make out patches were Taffy’s fur had thinned.

Slipping his wand back into his pocket, he set about coaxing the bear into not holding on quite so hard. Patting Taffy’s little back seemed to help, so he kept it soft and light as he sat on the bed.

“Taffy. Taffy, shush. It scared me too.” Serge wondered, distant and offhand, if this was what it was like to have a sibling. If Klaus had ever had to do this for his younger brother, Elias.

“M-master was scared?” Taffy’s face left the now wet patch of skin and cotton at the hollow of his throat, watery bead eyes peering up in wonder. He wanted to chuckle at that, how easily his friend could change moods.

“Yes, I was scared too. I might be taller than you Taffy, but even I get scared sometimes.” Using the bear’s distraction to his advantage, he set about picking dust bunnies off with all the care he could muster. “I’m sorry you saw any of that, Taffy. I’m sorry you were scared.”

Taffy only stared up at him, tears forgotten as he was gently cleaned and turned around for inspection.

The silence stretched on, and once the bear was as pristine as he would get Serge turned him back around. He lightly ruffled Taffy’s fur, gaze unfocusing as his mind drifted, present but not.

He had six years in which to learn any magic that could possibly heal Randy. Six years and no clear goal, but a stomach-turning fear that the Ministry might come and find him.

After all, Klaus had said he was a murderer. And he was right.

If not for Taffy, he would be either dead or turned to stone as well.

As if sensing the thought, his little bear pressed close, furry cheek tickling his skin. Plush arms tried to wrap around him, to hold on even with the lack of fingers.

“Me take care of Master. Taffy promise.”

There it was again, that feeling in his chest. Heavy, making his throat feel tight. After the initial ache, there was something warm.

“Thank you, Taffy. I’m not sure what I would do if you weren’t here.” Looking down at him, all soft brown fur and big heart he managed a smile.

Lifting Taffy up so that he wouldn’t be crushed, he hugged the bear to his chest.

“Thank you Taffy. Let’s try and get some sleep, okay?”

He felt like a little boy again, sleeping on his side while holding his familiar. The room wasn’t his, and his grandmother wouldn’t be there when he woke - but he wouldn’t be alone. With that thought in mind, he carefully cut the magic used for the light and closed his eyes.


	34. Little Changes - Azusa & Luca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sort-of slice of life between them, with things, too many things, left unsaid. My second Azusa/Luca fic.

“You’re going home for break?” The surprise he feels makes his tone edge towards almost incredulous, green brows raised high before he draws them down and furrows. “Isn’t the trip going to take longer than the school allows?” Azusa pauses in his packing, a little more of his long neck becoming exposed as his head tilts. Loose strands of brown hair slip a little more out of his braids, curling a bit from being in one position for so long.

“Usually, yes.” Blue eyes meet green as the taller man glances his way, expression thoughtful. Serious, more so than usual. “But the family I work for has asked that I come back, and I can’t exactly afford to say no.”

Luca felt his mood slip a bit more, pulling his mouth down at the corners. The brunet had mentioned that he was under employ by a family he’d known since childhood back home, but he’d never thought something like this might occur. “So, what is it they’re asking? Is it something magic related?”

If it was, then it should be a quick fix. Right?

Or something the Onmyoji could do in Gedonelune and send the results without having to leave?

“I can’t tell you that. It is a private matter.” The look in Azusa’s eyes told him not to ask about it any further. He tried not to let any sign of his negative impressions show on his face, instead sliding one hand into his pocket and trying for nonchalance. “So does that mean you’re withdrawing from the school?”

Break was one thing. He’d spent it alone before, detested it and how boring is was, but if the other man withdrew from the school entirely to go back to Hinomoto…

His chest tightened, heart beating a little faster because he was afraid of that. Of being alone again. _Don’t leave me._

“What put that idea into your strange head?” Azusa’s expression mirrored his own from earlier, brows creased, a grimace more than a smile on his lips. “I never said anything of the sort.” Luca tried not to swallow as the knot in his chest loosened, but something must have been given away because the Onmyoji rolled his pale eyes.

“I can’t say how long it will take, but I have no intention of abandoning my studies here.” Indigo irises bored into him, from the top of his head to his feet, and had he been Elias he might have given the banner for Lover’s Day in town a run for its money. “Or anything else, for that matter.” Pale lips quirked up into a familiar smirk, the one that reminded him that Azusa was as much of a jerk as he was - if not more so.

“Does that mean I can tag along? After all, it wouldn’t do for you for you to be bored - plus I’ve never been out of the country.” The time he’d spent in an old castle as an infant didn’t count, as far as he was concerned. Not that the Hinomoto native knew about that.

Rather than having the intended effect of lifting the mood, it did the opposite. Something shuttered in the brunet’s countenance, his posture smoothing out into perfect straightness. It took him a moment to figure out why change bothered him so much - that this was another one of the Onmyoji’s ways of distancing himself, as much as he himself used smiles and jokes and insults where necessary.

“You can’t. Not this time, at least.” Dropping his gaze, the older student busied himself with tucking a few more things away into a case. Something with lacquered wood as its case, but Luca found he didn’t care what it was.

“Just like that? That’s cold.” It sounded snider than he’d intended. More like he was a whining child.

Azusa spared him a glance that reaffirmed that impression.

When the older man spoke, his tone was neutral. “I would quite like to show you my homeland, Luca. It isn’t the first time I’ve thought about it.” It sounded like a careful concession, as if the brunet wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to reveal that much. As he continued his words were more hesitant, reluctant. “In Hinomoto there are… rules. On what is acceptable and what is not. For the two of us it would not be appropriate to be seen together as anything more than friends… if that, in some cases.”

The skin around blue eyes had tightened with that sentence, mask of professional blankness becoming stiff. “People marry young in Hinomoto. I already draw some attention for remaining single. And you have no visa, and cannot claim to have accompanied me as a student.” Those eyes glanced at him, something like regret appearing beneath the surface. “I’m sorry.”

“I could sneak in your bags and go that way, if you’re so worried.” Keeping his tone flippant, Luca moved his lips up into a smile - confident and sly. Waving his free hand almost dismissively, he shrugged. “That way you don’t have to worry about much. I’ll stay out of sight until - “

“So you’re going to go without food and water for several months?” Amusement glittered in the taller man’s eyes, facial muscles relaxing with the jibe. At the surprise Luca knew was evident on his own face.

“Pardon?”

The brunet snorted, closing the distance between them with lazy disregard. “You can only reach my country by ship, Luca. If you decide to assume an inanimate shape,” one slim hand lifted, fingertips brushing the rise of his cheek, “then you will be stuck in the cargo all that time. Quite alone, in the dark.” He felt himself wince before he could stop it, rocking back on the balls of his feet to put some distance between them. An arm stopped him, winding around his waist and pulling him against Azusa’s chest. He hated the inches in height that separated them, narrowing his eyes at the look the older man was giving him.

“And I don’t want that. Nor do I want to explain why there would be a person in my luggage when it is searched. Even if you could get away from your guardian here, I would rather you not end up in prison for attempting to cross the border illegally.” The hand that had touched his face before now pressed at the back of his head, until he gave in and let their foreheads touch.

Much as he didn’t like to be cornered, here he was.

Sometimes he wondered who had more of an edge, Azusa or himself.

“So I’ll get a visa. Or whatever.” It sounded too quiet coming from his own mouth, but he opened his eyes to meet blue ones hardly inches away. He could see something shift in their depths - amusement still, regret, sadness.

“You are so difficult.” Their noses bumped when Azusa moved, warm lips touching his cheek. The arm around him tightened for a second, before releasing him. “Can’t you be patient and wait for me?”

“Waiting is boring.” Leaning forward, to steal a kiss and some of the other man’s breath, delighted to coax him into reciprocating.

Despite the bait, Azusa said nothing else on the matter.

-

He times it so that Prefect Klaus was occupied with patrol, guaranteeing a couple of hours freedom without the Emperor’s watchful eye or Schuyler’s knack for knowing what he was up to. Randy March was, as he expected, still within the office and busy doing something that likely ignored several magical and natural laws simultaneously. The pink haired man looked up when the door opened, blinking twice at the sight of him. Taffy remained by his master’s legs, button eyes boring into him without blinking.

It was a little creepy, for all Taffy’s overall cute appearance.

“Hey. Cooking up something?” He grinned, sliding a hand into his pocket as he shut the door behind him, briefly glancing around for any spilled concoctions, broken glass, or obvious vapors. The office remained nearly pristine, and Luca wondered whether he’d caught Randy just as he was beginning to work, or the long aftermath.

“Just tea. Want some?” Already moving, the other Prefect paused only to hoist Taffy off the ground and sitting him on the comfortable looking seat by the desk - presumably so that the familiar wouldn’t get between the man’s long legs and be stepped on.

“If that’s all it is, why not?” He’d done worse, sneaking into the Prefect’s office. Having tea with the eccentric man couldn’t go terribly wrong, right?

In no time at all Randy had discovered where his fellow Prefect hid the tea cups, found a tray, finished making whatever blend he’d been (supposedly) making and conjured a plate of sweets to go with the lot. Luca couldn’t help but stare, mouth slightly agape at the innocently amused expression the older student had on his face.

“Come on, sit. I’m going to guess that you’d like to finish up before Klaus comes back.” Amusement gave way to a sly half-smile, pinkish gold eyes curving at the corners. The man picked a cup for himself, accommodating Taffy by settling the plush familiar in his lap. Taffy’s cheeks flushed, somehow, and the too-long ears twitched on his soft, furry head. Green eyes glanced at the remaining cup, but he took it all the same. The liquid inside was the right color for black tea, though he would have figured it to be too bitter for the sugar-obsessed Prefect’s tastes.

“I didn’t know how sweet you liked your tea. But,” drawing out his wand, once more making the truant stare at the many baubles the tool boasted, Randy gave it a flick. Milk and cubes of sugar made their appearance, but he noticed that the cubes had tiny faces on them - like someone had taken a pen and doodled on the sugar’s packed surface. “There you are.”

The man was smiling. Broadly, obviously pleased.

Luca wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Thanks.” Adding a cube to his tea, watching it dissolved out of fleeting curiosity, he raised his gaze to meet the eccentric wizard’s patient stare. “You stayed in Hinomoto for a while, right?”

Surprise took over the slimmer student’s expression, thin brows lifting for a moment before he thought about his answer. Cupping his drink with both hands like he wanted to warm them, pink curls bobbed slightly as he finally nodded. “Yes. Four years, in fact.”

Luca felt something inside himself go still at that, briefly struggling with the knowledge Azusa had never shared. “That long? Was it hard to get in?”

“Oh yes. Hinomoto is… a very isolated country.” Pausing there to sip at his tea, Randy carefully bounced the leg Taffy was sitting on, eyes curving with enjoyment at his familiar’s simple delight. “I had to go to a number of people to get my papers, temporary as those were. If I’d gone through the Ministry perhaps it would have gone a little smoother but…” He stopped himself, looking pained before pushing the feeling aside as though it had never been.

Curiosity piqued, Luca found himself watching the other man’s expressions more closely as he continued.

“As an individual it can be very difficult to obtain a visa. The government isn’t very keen on outsiders being there, but once you become acquainted with some of the people you become something like a minor novelty.” Randy chuckled at that, perhaps a bit ruefully. His tone remained mild and cheerfully curious as he asked the obvious question. “Why the sudden interest?”

Leaning back in his seat, somewhat disappointed it wasn’t the Emperor’s, he carefully toyed with his cup. “Didn’t Azusa tell you he was leaving over break?”

It was petty, putting forward this kind of test. He knew it. But there was a part of him still smarting from being reminded how little he actually knew about Azusa Kuze.

Randy’s pout informed him that, no, he hadn’t been told such information and he was very upset about it. Or, at least he was pretending to be.

The fact that he couldn’t quite grasp the nuances of the older man’s personality didn’t sit well with him. But really, for what reason would Randy March tug the wool over his eyes on this?

_Four years is a long time._

“You want to go with him.” Those odd eyes were focused on him now, alert and surprisingly keen. Randy was smiling again, very faintly, settling back into his chair as if the matter were already settled. Taffy rocked back and forth, in his own little world.

“Was it that obvious?” Feeling his expression twist at being found out so easily, Luca allowed himself a brief laugh. “Don’t answer that. I’m off my game.”

“Just a little.” Randy conceded, drinking from his up once more. “But it would be obvious even if you hadn’t asked. It’s a shame to be alone over break.” He paused, moving a hand to ruffle the tufts of fur crowning his familiar’s head. “I imagine that Azusa told you no?” Pink-gold peered at him from under soft-looking lashes, and he decided it wouldn’t be so bad to nod in response.

“Sounds like him.” Randy huffed, crossing one leg over the other only to readjust a second afterwards. “Very well, what can I do to help?”

“Just like that?” Raising a brow, he couldn’t help a disbelieving chuckle leaving his mouth.

“You want to go, don’t you? I’m sure I can think of a way.” Mischief flickered in the Prefect’s eyes, perfectly obvious that the gears were turning in his candy-colored head. Taffy looked up at his master, worry etching itself somehow onto the familiar’s plush face. “M-master…”

“Shh, Taffy.” Once more ruffling the bear’s fur, Randy’s smile widened. “It’s nothing bad.. Just speaking with old acquaintances is all.”

“Acquaintances?” Tilting his head, Luca watched as Taffy settled down under the soft pats, apparently content.

“Yes. I was acquainted with the family Azusa works for, and that’s how we met.” The older man’s smile softened, eyes trailing over nothing in particular. “He wasn’t doing so well at the time, and we were close in age. I believe they hoped I might be able to help him. So we became friends, after he got used to me.”

“I don’t think that’s called friendship, actually.” Sitting back, he allowed himself to shake his head, finally sipping the cooled tea. Surprised when steam gently touched his skin, he drew back, staring at the china.

“Oh, Klaus loves these cups so I enchanted them to never let the tea get cold.” Randy chuckled, drawing himself up into a proper sitting position. “He hates cold tea, and it puts him in a bad mood.”

Luca made a noncommittal noise low in his throat by way of response, almost draining the cup in one go. Finished, he set it to the side, eyeing the deceptively amiable man before him. Randy said nothing, idly tapping his feet to a nonsensical beat, meeting his stare evenly.

Which one was which, he wondered. Was the real Randy so relentlessly cheerful or was it all an act?

“What are the chances I’ll get tossed into some international prison if I go with your idea?” He allowed a smile to show on his face, relaxing into his seat. Between his fingers, he carefully twirled a blue macaroon, disappointed that it wasn’t spicy at all when he bit into it.

Humor warred with surprise on the cotton candy haired man’s face, and through a fit of giggles he managed a sentence, “What… pfff…. did Azusa tell you that? Oh, you won’t need to worry about that - just… ha! So long as you don’t go around naked or something.”

Wiping at his eyes, the Prefect collected himself. “I could see it being an issue if you turned yourself into one of his things, but no, you’ll be fine. That’s what you were planning, wasn’t it, if I said no?”

Finding himself under the microscope once more, Luca simply shrugged.

It inspired another brief round giggles, but otherwise Randy said no more.

-

Azusa looked less than pleased to find out that he had, in fact, been in contact with the family the Onmyoji worked for (through one meddling Randy March) and obtained permission to accompany him back home. For his part, Luca felt slightly triumphant - more so because it meant being truly out from under Schuyler’s watchful eye for the first time ever. However, he’d made the attempt to soften the stiffness in the brunet’s current posture by offering the knowledge that now he wouldn’t be making the trip there and back alone. A number of emotions had crossed Azusa’s face then, before finally settling on feigned (he hoped) resignation.

“Fine. Don’t complain to me when you get sick.”

Ignoring the jibe, Luca set about packing away what little he thought might actually be useful without drawing attention to it.

-

Having never traveled by ship before, he found that the rocking did make him sick - but he consoled himself with the fact that by the fifth day he could move around without wanting to upchuck. Azusa had only grumbled that it was about time, only once pressing the back of his hand to patch of skin to feel his temperature.

-

“Luca. Stop that.” For the fourth time, the folds of the yukata slid off the brunet’s shoulder, pushed just so by devious fingers. Azusa made the attempt to try again, annoyance dominating his expression, but those same hands caught the Onmyoji’s and held them still.

“No. You should stay.” Tugging on the slender wrists, he almost managed to pull the taller man back a couple of steps. Then Azusa dug his feet in and pulled back, hard enough that Luca stumbled, loosening his grip. Twisting to get free, the older man pinned his arms to his sides, pressing their foreheads together.

“Unlike you, I can’t lay around all day.” Blue eyes were half-lidded, the beginnings of a smile resting in one corner of his mouth. “So let me go to work, and I will be back that much quicker.”

“You’re no fun.” Luca allowed himself a moment to grouse, just for the sake of it, enjoying how Azusa narrowed his eyes the faintest bit before relaxing them. There wasn’t really a threat to the look, and he wasn’t that concerned. “They’ve had you to themselves all week.”

“Yes. Because I work for them, you irresponsible fool.” Azusa moved, catching him by surprise when he stole a kiss. “No more interruptions. I’ll be late.”

“Fine, fine. Go work, I’ll figure out something to do.” Green rolled slowly in their sockets, peeking at the Onmyoji through their lashes.

“Don’t start.” Azusa let him go, quickly dressing once he was out of arm’s reach. It was still something novel, seeing him change. He looked good, Luca could admit, even with the headpiece.

“And don’t burn anything down while I’m away.” That last comment, tossed over one shoulder as the man left, got a snort out of him.

If anything, he could try and catch that weird black rabbit with the big blue eyes he’d seen roaming around.


	35. Not Bad at All - Luca & Arum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I finished the Luca and Yukiya route for Battle Mode and got the CG, I couldn't contain myself.

The lack of a warm body beside her was what woke her, orange eyes cracking open slowly. Arum blinked, seeing the wood of the wardrobe, but no Luca. His side of the bed had lost the warmth he’d brought last night and she made herself sit up to look around the rest of her room.

Her bedroom door was propped open, allowing her a peek into the hallway. It didn’t take her long to push off the covers and get up, despite the soft hiss that left her mouth as her feet met the chilly floorboards. 

He wasn’t out in the hallway, and the door to the bathroom was open, interior dark. It wasn’t until she was about to go down the stairs that she heard anything besides her own footsteps - a muffled curse from the kitchen giving her a good idea of where her curious guest had gone.

It wasn’t the level of disaster she’d seen when they’d made his birthday cake together but he had his thumb stuck between his lips, brows drawn in minor pain. She wished she’d thought to grab her wand from her bedroom, debated turning to retrieve it when Luca pulled his hand away to inspect whatever wound he’d received. From what she could see, there wasn’t any blood.

The stair creaked a little under her foot, his head turned towards the sound before she could decide whether to move or not. Surprise passed through his expression before it gave way to a similar look of contentment she’d seen yesterday as she’d shown him around.

“Hey. You’re up.” As he stepped out of the kitchen, she was glad to see he hadn’t covered himself in flour or something sticky. “I didn’t wake you up did I?”

“No, it just happened. You were gone and I wasn’t sure where you’d went.” Another stair creaked as she joined him on the landing and she made a note to repair them if they needed it. It was possible that they could, since she hadn’t been home and no one had been around to take care of it.

Arum felt grateful that she hadn’t left a window open during her absence, unwilling to imagine what sort of chaos they might have walked in on if that had been the case.

Luca was smiling, she noticed. Not the secretive, trouble-starting smile she was used to - more like the one she’d fallen asleep to.

“So you missed me, is that it?” His eyes were bright, as if her admission made him happy. It made her cheeks grow warm. Almost reminded her of his smile after they’d caught the dragon in the birdcage he’d conjured, how his gaze might have lingered, just briefly, on her.

“Of course I missed you.” She wished she could say it easier, the way he seemed to be able to. But that was part of this, right? He could pry her out of her defensiveness and she might be able to make him happy too. Her eyes went to his hand, the red mark which was now evident against his skin. “I can take care of that, if you want.”

He glanced at it, lifting his hand for closer inspection. She felt him jump a little when she took it between her own hands, pressed a light peck to the burn.

“That’s the first step, my mom would say. Let’s get you a bandage so it doesn’t happen again.” Smiling up at him, seeing him smile back, was good enough.


	36. In Our Own Time - Reece & Azusa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When he sleeps, he looks sweet. Sometimes, he might even act like it. But Reece wants to keep surprising him. Kinda nsfw.

It wasn’t that often that she woke before him, usually it was several moments after he’d risen and briefly touched her hair or kissed her temple that her mind could push beyond the heavy veil of unconsciousness. Azusa didn’t do anything other than shift when she slowly turned over, looking him over as his lips moved in his sleep. No words came out, and she wondered what he could be dreaming of to still be out cold.

His hair was a mess, claiming most of his pillow and a few pieces stuck to the side of his face. His chest rose and fell evenly, a faint snore reaching her ears as he inhaled.

A smile twitched over her lips.

He’d sworn that he never snored. That she was either hearing things or doing it herself.

It was close to the time he would need to wake up and get ready to meet with the family he served. His eyes moved beneath closed lids, the fingers of his right hand twitched as if he intended to cast a spell.

Carefully lifting herself up, Reece made sure to tuck her braid under the collar of her nightclothes so that it wouldn’t bump into him. Balancing her weight on one arm she leaned in and softly kissed the pale skin of his chest. His skin twitched under her lips, but he didn’t move.

Turning her head, holding back loose parts of her hair that wanted to sabotage her mission, she continued making a trail of light kisses up his chest. When she reached his collarbone, one of his hands pressed against the back of her head and Reece found herself being pulled in until her cheek lay against his skin.

She felt the rumble of his voice as he spoke, not even bothering to hide her smile. It wasn’t like he’d be able to see it anyway.

“You’re being awfully affectionate this morning.” His voice still had the pleasant drawl of sleep to it but his thin fingers were already working against her scalp, making her relax into his side with a sigh. A rustle came from above her head, possibly he was looking down at her as best he could with her tucked beside him like this. “And by affectionate I mean bold.”

Her response was a careless shrug. If she wanted, she could turn her head and blow a stream of air over his skin - he might arch and hiss a little, complain vocally or tousle her hair depending on his mood. Deliberately, she kept her tone vague as she baited him, “Sometimes I think you need a little boldness to shake you out of your routine.”

Silence stretched for a moment and he went still under her cheek, fingers going lax in her hair. Then, he gave her hair a soft tug. She obliged him, smothering a chuckle when he pulled her in for a kiss.

If they kissed it was usually short, one or both of them lacking time to make it last. The hand in her hair now cupped the back of her head, his other arm slipping around her to keep her in place. It isn’t a short kiss. Their lips part and meet again, over and over as she curls her fingers into the thin cotton of his clothes.

She takes advantage of his distraction between kisses to pull herself up, straddling his thin waist and catching both his hands in hers only to press them down by his disheveled head. His blue eyes were dark, nearly as they had been when they’d gone to bed after the wedding ceremony. Faint pink dusted his cheeks, his mouth smoothing out from its brief unease and into the sly smirk she knew he reserved for trouble.

“What are you doing, Reece?” His fingers curled loosely into his palms, wrists warm against her palms but if he wanted it would be easy for him to push her off.

Or pull her right back in.

“I’m going to keep surprising you, Azusa.” She gave his wrists a slow, firm squeeze, feeling the faint shift of his body beneath hers. She tightened the press of her legs on either side of him, pleased to catch the brief dissolve of composure in his gaze.

There wasn’t any way he could brush off the hitch in his breath with words, not when she felt it, saw the way his lips stayed parted a fraction of a second too long. She didn’t feel like giving him the time to recover.

When she pressed their lips together he leaned up into it, hungry.


	37. Crossed Boundaries - Klaus & Anima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q&A with the Emperor has... mixed results.

“Perhaps you’re the one practicing dark magic, as you’re the one which brought it up?” Tilting her head to one side, Anima peers up at him with a hint of humor in her expression. It lingers in her eyes, the brief quirk of her lips. For all it was a serious discussion, she hadn’t meant it to be an actual accusation.

Klaus’ smile, so sudden, unnerving, dropped a stone into her stomach.

“What… did you just say?” His tone, once engaged and genuinely curious now matched the intimidating aura surrounding his person. Had it been cold, or disdained, she might have dismissed it easier.

The forced politeness, along with the fact that he was steadily drawing closer made her draw in on herself, slim fingers curling tightly into the arms of the chair.

“Do you believe this is a joke?” His warm hand touched the top of her head, light at first before he began to clench his fingers against her skull.

Her noise of discomfort wasn’t particularly loud, but the feeling of his hand remained even after she pushed him back. He actually stumbled, eyes wide behind his glasses in that split second.

Rising from her seat, Anima put distance between them. Reaching up, she brushed a hand over her face.

“You’re right. It was a poor attempt at humor that will not be repeated. I.. I’m sorry.” She kept her eyes focused on the pages of a book on what she presumed to be his desk, finding it easier to look at that rather than at him.

“Anima.” He started, she heard him shift, hoped that he would have the sense and decency to stay where he was.

“You still haven’t told me what today’s training will be.” She kept her tone light, wishing, not for the first time, she knew how her father handled things like this.


	38. Push Me to the Brink - Luca & Arum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's resolved to take what he wants if it means he can be happy. Right? Inspired by the events of Luca's Magic Competition route.  
> Please note that this addresses issues of consent and moral ambiguity.

“Say it again. Say what it is you like about me.” He’s surprised his voice comes out so calm and controlled. Within his chest his heart is pounding, thumping painfully against his ribs. How she can’t hear it is beyond him - except that he knows that her entire focus is on him, on his every word and move.

Arum’s eyes are bright, blackness of the pupil larger than normal. He’s not sure if it’s the heightened emotion that makes the orange of her irises seem more vivid, or if it could be his own wishful imagination.

She’s looked at him passionately before - their nighttime date on the lake, for starters.

Somehow though, he doesn’t recall, can’t recall, if it had ever been so _absolute_ before.

“Everything!” The word leaves her in a rush, matching the rush of heat to her cheeks. She moves, takes two steps closer to him and he notices that her hands twitch like she wants to reach out for him.

In a softer, less hurried voice, Arum continues. “I like everything about you, Luca. Your smile, the way you laugh - even when your jokes upset me, I like you.”

He thought it wouldn’t feel like a knife was twisting in his chest, hearing this.

_Could he be sure it was really her? Was it the potion?_

Close enough that he could feel the heat off her body Arum finally stopped, still staring up at him. Her cheeks were still that dark pink he loved to see, lips slightly parted and her breaths coming just a little too quick. For all his bravado he felt frozen, afraid to move because he didn’t know what she would do.

“I love you, Luca.” He watched her throat as she swallowed after saying it, how open her face remained. When he didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, her hands started to lift.

 ** _“Stop.”_** He fought a wince, hating that he sounded harsh to his own ears.

But she froze, eyes a little wider, hands paused at chest level like she was going to reach for his coat. He couldn’t help it, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take in a long, slow breath.

When he opened his eyes, she remained the same. Rooted to the spot, because he’d told her to.

Because he told her to.

_The dangers of a love potion where that it inspired obsession instead of love. It drove the one who drank it to seek out any contact they could with the person of their affections, resulting in tragedy more often than not._

His ‘like’ potion shouldn’t have done that, but…

“You love me?” His lips were moving, not entirely without his permission. His shoulders eased from their tensed position, when he stepped closer, invaded her space she didn’t move away.

Not like she had when he’d cornered her in the archives, let his tongue get away from him.

“Do you really love me, Arum?” Leaning in, he could feel the softness of her breath ghost over his skin. Smell the faint perfume she’d put on this morning. Her eyelashes fluttered, something hot and dark coming to the fore in her eyes when she leaned to meet him.

“I do.”

“Don’t move. Keep your eyes on me.” He was pushing too far for sure. He knew it but said the words anyway.

And she forced herself to go still, even though it was obvious she’d rather not. Her eyes followed him, still dark, as he hovered close enough that she would have stepped back or pushed him if she were in her right mind.

Raising a hand, he reached out like he had the day they’d met in the gardens; Arum straining not to tilt her face into the touch, to obey his command even as he tempted her with what she wanted.

What she thought she wanted.

His throat constricted, eyes roaming over her face and committing that look to memory. She was going to remember this, every bit of it, and she’d hate him for being the creep that he was right now. She’d remember this and probably wouldn’t ever trust him again.

So he wanted to remember what she looked like, when she said she loved him.

“I love you, Arum. Believe me on that, okay?” He felt his face twist, probably into something ridiculous and painful.

Her eyes opened, some of the heat leaving them and he thought, perhaps, that he’d reached whatever sense she had while under the effects of the potion.

He consoled himself with the sight of her face after he gave her the neutralizer, pushing aside the things in his chest that wished he hadn’t. That and other things.

Maybe he wasn’t such a monster after all.


	39. Sweet Anticipation - Joel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A teaser I wrote for the fandom, before Joel's route was released.

“What are you doing here?” He keeps his voice soft, unwilling to strain to be heard. She jumps anyway, stifling a gasp. Reaching out, winding his arms around her, he took a moment to enjoy how they fit together - the thick wool of her cloak aside.

Strands of her hair tickled his skin and he could see her shiver when he turned his head, stopping just short of brushing his lips over her ear.

“It’s not time yet. You shouldn’t be here.”

Soon. Soon, he knew, they would meet.

Someday, he hoped to sing for her - whoever she was.

“I love you.” He whispered to the fading image of a girl in his arms, eyes of blue and gold slowly closing once she was gone. “I think I always will.”


	40. Domestic Things - Luca & Arum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Luca's Ending in Battle Mode Love Sandwich. I might write the others' too. Also featuring the mysterious Todd, because reasons.

“Would you like to come with me into town, Luca?” Turning her head, she was able to catch the sight of him raising his brows a little, his mouth parting in surprise at her question. Being Luca, he recovered quickly, leaning part of his weight on the counter beside her as she cooked. “Sure. Did we forget something the last time?”

 _Not really,_ she wanted to say. It was something that had been brewing in her mind for a while, after seeing him bring only a spare change of clothes with him. After the festival, she’d wanted to steal a chance to get something for him but there was surprisingly little time. Knowing that she’d arrived home for a short break, the villagers had brought all manner of things - food, well-wishes and curious questions.

And no shortage of things to repair - small things, thankfully. She’d been asked to heal the occasional animal, throughout it all Luca had been close by. Helping her when she needed it, often even before she asked, fielding questions when her mind went blank or her hands were full. He’d even helped her by healing a couple of the people who had come through with minor aches and pains once they’d heard her healing skills could now extend to humans.

He’d looked at her somewhat differently that night, expression slightly tired but he’d smiled all the same. _“You’re really a vital part of this place, aren’t you?”_ When she asked what he meant by that his smile only grew and he’d held her hand for several seconds after that.

So, she wanted to do something for him.

“There’s just a few things I’d like to get before the week is out. Before we go back to school.” Smiling, Arum reached out and lightly pressed the pad of her thumb between green brows, rubbing small circles into the skin to ease the tension she felt from his frown. His eyes closed and he relaxed into the touch for a moment before taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. It tickled a little, but his lips were soft. She could feel the heat in her face but didn’t pull away from the small touch.

He let her go and stood just behind her, chest warm against her back and covered the hand she was using the spatula with in one of his own. He’d made a small mountain of eggs in the pan before she realized it, but her attempt to nudge him away became ineffective when his free arm slid around her waist. She felt him press his face into the crook of her neck and shivered, trying not to laugh when his hair tickled her skin.

“We’ll go after breakfast. How’s that?” His voice was muffled, but she nodded all the same.

He didn’t interfere with her cooking after that, and she quietly took a moment to lean back against him.

“Sounds great to me. Mind getting the plates?” He squeezed her once before letting go, moving for the cabinet to her right. When she glanced at him her eyes got a good look at the exposed portion of his chest, the muscles beneath his skin flexing and shifting as he moved. Arum made herself look away, checking the eggs one last time before taking the pan off the stove and turning the heat off.

“Do you think we’ll run in to Todd again while we’re in town?” The teasing quality of Luca’s voice made her smile, even before she processed what he’d said. The words caught up to her and she managed to lightly elbow him as she doled out the food.

“Luca, be nice. You already gave him a fit by saying that you’re my fiance.” Not that she’d been much better off at the time, with the way Luca had put an arm around her and deliberately kissed the side of her head. As Todd had developed a stuttering problem and fallen to his knees she’d felt lips on her neck.

Overkill, by a long shot.

“But it would be nice to make friends.” Luca’s voice drew her back to the present, eyes alight with amusement. “Isn’t that what I’ll need to do for when I come to live with you once we’re graduated?”

Arum felt her mind blank out at the edges, reminded of the vision she’d had as they were coming back from the festival.

_A little boy and a little girl, herself and Luca. A family._

It sent pink to her cheeks and she couldn’t quite meet Luca’s eyes after that.

“Arum? Did I say something wrong?” His fingers brushed her hand, light and the most hesitant she’d ever seen from him. When she looked up, his expression had turned concerned. Serious.

“No, that’s not it.” Taking and returning the kiss he’d given her before, she watched the look of happiness that flickered in his eyes. Releasing his hand, she pushed his food towards him, along with a fork. Finding the words took a second, because she wasn’t sure what she should say - vision had only given her that one image of a possible future, and what little she knew of that sort of magic was nebulous at best.

Lifting her gaze back to his, she made her decision.

“Let’s just say that someday we’ll have a family.” Surprise took over his expression, her heart beating faster as she tried to continue. “A-and we’ll be happy. If you want that, I mean.”

“Of course I want that.” The smile that broke out over his face was impossibly bright, green eyes looking too wet. “That’s all I want.”

She found it funny that for all his talent with drawing and magic, for trouble, he could make her feel so warm and free.

With a small laugh, she ducked her head and picked up her plate. “W-Well it may be a while, so don’t jump the gun okay?” He chuckled at that, following her with his breakfast out towards the front yard.

“I promise to do my best. Not sure what else I can promise though, it can be pretty difficult to hold myself back.” He smiled at her as they sat, twirling his fork between long fingers. She nudged his ankle with her foot, making herself comfortable on the cobbled path leading to her house. The sun felt wonderful on her shoulders and back, and Luca seemed to enjoy eating outside.

“Keep that up and I’ll change my mind about what to get you on our trip.”

His smile became sly as he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “So it does have to do with me. Thanks.”

Fork halfway to her mouth, Arum froze, closing her eyes and letting out a slow groan at her own mistake.


	41. Colder Seasons - Elias & Mami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wintertime has come and even the Goldstein manor gets chilly.

“You’re still up?” The softly spoken question nudged him back towards awareness. Lifting his head from its position on his curled fist, Elias slowly blinked. His office slowly came into focus around him, Mami in the doorway. Already she was closing the door, padding into the room on bare feet.

She had a thick blanket draped around her shoulders and it clicked that she’d walked all the way to his office from their room, in the cold. A mixture of concern and guilt stirred in his stomach, prompting him to unsteadily rise from his chair.

“I’m sorry… time just slipped away from me.” He had to blink again because everything seemed just a little fuzzy - but once his eyes were shut they wanted to stay that way.

Thick cotton and warm skin wrapped around him, Mami’s lips gently pressing against his cheek. Elias didn’t have it in him to resist and sagged slowly into the embrace, feeling her shiver slightly as she held him.

“I’m sorry Mami.. you’re cold and I can’t even properly stay awake.” Forcing his eyes open, he wrapped his arms around her. Hot breath stirred the ends of his hair, tickling him, but he loved the sound of her laughter.

“It’s okay, Elias. Come on, I’ve got a warming spell going on the bed.” She tugged him along with a half-smile, her brown eyes looking just slightly unfocused.

Gratitude surged in his chest as he turned off the lights. They shared the blanket as they shuffled back towards their room.


	42. Colder Seasons - Yukiya & Delia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's late and the other side of the bed is empty.

Cold air touched his nose and he started awake, brown eye narrowing as his surroundings swam before him. Shapes eventually made sense and he could see that Delia’s side of the bed was empty, the blankets carefully bundled against him so that he wouldn’t feet the chill. Frowning, he lifted himself up and sniffed.

Sharp, clean air filled his nose - accompanied by the faint scent of rain. The storm hadn’t come yet, thankfully, and if it hit after morning then they wouldn’t need to worry much about the garden.

Pushing the blankets aside, Yukiya rose. The floor was cold, the sort of cold that made him wish he’d put socks on before going to bed. He couldn’t hear Wolfy, but the magical beast’s scent was nearby. He carefully left the room, cocking his head once out in the hallway.

A short, pained sound led him downstairs and into the kitchen. His eye widened when he saw Delia standing hunched, gripping the counter by the sink and slowly measuring out her breaths. The swell of her stomach strained against her nightshirt and she slowly pressed a hand to the area as her shoulders gradually untensed.

“Are you alright?” He closed the distance between them carefully, taking the hand she extended to him. Her fingers were cold, and he closed his own over them protectively.

“Yeah.” The word came out with a short puff of air, not quite as labored as before. Delia raised her head to look at him, smiling. There was a light in her eyes, even if the corners of her smile looked strained. “I wanted something to drink but the baby decided to exercise.”

A wince crossed her face and he squeezed her hand, standing closer so that she could lean on him if need be.

“Is it.. time?” A slow burn of excitement rose in his chest, accompanied by a measure of anxiety. It eased somewhat when she shook her head, standing a little straighter now and breathing easier.

“Not yet. But we’re getting close. I didn’t wake you did I?”

He shook his head, already sliding his arm around her back. “Just wondered. It’s cold.”

Delia chuckled at that, leaning into him. “Then let’s head back up. It’s been awhile since I tried to climb stairs in the dark.”

He smiled at her joke, but took extra care all the same.


	43. Colder Seasons - Luca & Arum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca's first time decorating a Christmas tree.

The urge to sneeze came suddenly, leaving him no time to turn his face away or cover his mouth. It was loud, making Arum jump just ahead of him. In spite of the ornaments she was carrying she turned to look at him, concern in her wide eyes.

“You okay back there? I can open a window if you like.” Luca thought about it, glancing down at the box of striped, cane-shaped sweets in his hand. The idea had its appeal, but he didn’t like the idea of getting a Christmas chill to go with the decorating lesson.

“Nah. Tell me again why we’re putting candy canes on a tree?” Arum came to a stop before the aforementioned tree, shoulders shaking gently as she laughed. The small box she carried was set down on the low table to her left, glass clinking softly from inside.

He craned his head to look, curious and, admittedly, a little excited.

“To decorate. I couldn’t tell you who started the tradition, but you can use nearly anything as a Christmas ornament.” She smiled at him and he repressed the urge to roll his eyes a little.

It was obvious the holiday meant something to her. The fact that she was sharing that with him more than made up for the odd decorating tasks.

“Well, we’d best get started then.” Stepping beside her, Luca carefully pried open the box and eased the solid sugar from its containment. He could almost imagine what she might have looked like as a child, doing this with her parents.

Arum opened her box and showed him the somewhat worn ornaments inside - simple tinted spheres of glass hanging from brass hooks, a reindeer that had lost the majority of its ‘fur’ over the years, several bells hardly the size of two of his fingers that produced a tiny jingle when shook.

He slid the candy canes on the branches without paying much attention to where they went, simply enjoying the oddly relaxing task. A brow crept up towards his hairline when Arum pulled out her wand, but she only grinned at him and said to stand back.

The incantation wasn’t one he recognized, but she said it confidently, flicking her wand in the direction of the tree. Particles of light shimmered around the tree, some of them slipping into the spherical ornaments and causing them to glow softly - every so often dimming, only to return to their previous luminescence.

The light glinted gently off the bells, playing off the wrappers and bows of the candy canes, made the reindeer look slightly more majestic when viewed in a softer illumination.

“My dad made that spell.” Luca blinked, staring at the wistful expression on her face. She watched the lights in silence for a moment, but turned her hand to his when he brushed them together. “He said that it was like watching the tree come alive, every year, just for Christmas. And he told me to save the best part for last.”

She pulled away from him slowly and he let go, even though he didn’t really want to. From the bottom of the box she drew out a golden colored star, its edges a little scuffed but still nice to look at. Arum held the star out to him, wistfulness replaced with something new and bright - almost like she had a secret.

“Me?” Luca felt both his brows lift this time, eyes moving from the ornament to hers. “You want me to put the star on the tree?”

“We’ve got another tradition in my family.” Her mouth slowly eased into a smile, soft at the edges. “The person we love the most is the one who gets to complete the tree. You want to?”

She gave the star a little shake, as if to emphasize her point.

Something in his chest grew warm, loosening and he took the ornament from her carefully. It wasn’t heavy, not at all. Feeling heat in his cheeks he turned to regard the tree, easily standing to his full height and gingerly attaching the ornament at the top.

Particles of light gathered around it, lighting up little crevasses he hadn’t noticed before. It glowed, like candlelight.

He felt her arms come around him from behind and covered one of her hands with his own. It was probably better that she couldn’t see his face - he thought he might look a little stupid from all the things he was feeling.

“Spend Christmas with me again, Luca?” Her voice was muffled against his back, but he squeezed her wrist gently.

“All of them. I promise.”


	44. Colder Seasons - Klaus & Anima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Emperor receives happy news close to the holidays. Note: I call the eldest Goldstein brother Louis, it's not official by Solmare standards.

Anima and his brother were conspiring, Klaus was sure of it. The two had become relatively close since their first meeting and more than once seen them talking with one another, ceasing conversation once either of them became aware of his presence. It was… more than irritating, admittedly.

Louis had only spared him a sidelong glance at breakfast, making some excuse that Elaine and he had a trip planned for the weekend.

He found Anima propped in her bed, book in her lap and decided to finally ask.

She raised her head when he entered, purple eyes moving over his face as he approached her bed and sat, close enough the it was easy to lean in and claim her lips. She kissed him back, firmer than he expected, but it only made him smile.

“Just what have you been discussing with my brother that would make you hide in here?” When they parted her book had fallen to the side, her lips redder than they had been moments ago.

She only stared up at him, something flickering in her eyes that he didn’t understand.

Her hand raised, knuckles slowly brushing against the curve of his cheek. Turning his head into the touch, he watched her expression change into something softer - a little vulnerable.

“If you had been patient I would have found a better way to tell you.” She chided, a hint of pink staining her cheeks. When he tilted his head she took his hand and moved it between them, pressing his palm against her stomach.

She was warm enough for him to feel through her clothes, her skin soft to the touch he knew from experience.

It took a moment for her meaning to register - he’d deny that later.

“You mean it?” A faint quaver was apparent in his voice, violet eyes widening as he stared at her.

Anima smiled, nestling down into her blankets, thumb brushing over the back of his hand as she blinked at him lazily. She looked, to him, rather like a pleased cat.


	45. Colder Seasons - Serge & Eleanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor wakes up before Randy.

Sunlight filtered through the window and Eleanor turned her face away, burying her nose in soft pink curls. Serge continued to sleep, an arm thrown over her waist and legs caught in hers. Taffy, like his master, snoozed away in the bed she’d made for him, long ears occasionally twitching as he snored.

Seeing Serge like this reminded her of their days at the Academy. She found herself opening her eyes and watching how the light turned pink tresses brighter, drawing out what could be red in his hair as well. His lashes fluttered against her collarbone, she felt the brush of his lips against her skin as he mumbled something.

Something about cookies? She wasn’t sure.

Brushing her fingers through his hair, Eleanor felt herself smile as she raised her eyes to the ceiling. The lace on the curtain made shadows like the curl of a dragon’s tail, one of the flowers embroidered on it could be a Wing Rabbit if she squinted just right.

Tomorrow, they would be going out on their trip - she still felt nervous of course, but she would be happy just staying near Serge.

As long as they were together, very little could go wrong.

He mumbled again, shifting and she rubbed the back of his neck soothingly until her husband went still again. Husband. She smiled again at that word, pleased with the warm bubble of joy it created in her chest.


	46. Colder Seasons - Azusa & Reece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work is consuming, both of time and closeness. Azusa doesn't like it.

She sighed quietly as thin fingers worked over her back, nails occasionally scraping gently over the warm skin. Azusa balanced most of his weight on his knees, working his hands over the knots of tension in her back. Reece shifted beneath him, but she stayed relaxed. He took that as a good sign, keeping a small smile to himself.

“You’re being nice.” Her tease came out as a murmur, head pillowed on her folded arms. He had the sense that, if she cared enough, she might crack one eye open to look at him.

“It has been known to happen. You should have told me it was this bad, I would have done this sooner.” He paused over a cluster of nerves, feeling the bunched muscle gingerly. When she drew her shoulders up, hissing a little, he turned to the outside of the area to rub circles there until the knot loosened.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do a massage.” Gradually she relaxed again, he took his time in fanning his fingers out on either side of her spine. Carefully, he pressed down, popping her back.

She grunted, twisting a little but his knees kept her from going far. “Azusa, what -”

“Your back is out of alignment.” He cut her off, concentrating on the process. “Which only makes it worse, you know. Spend less time over that worktable of yours and it might ease up.”

Another pop and she shivered, goose-flesh rising over her skin. He could feel it under his palms and lightly brushed his hands over her back to ease the rush of sensation.

“What you’re saying is that you miss me, eh?” Reece did turn her head this time, enough that he could see her doing her best to look at him. It helped when she pushed herself up - even if he had to readjust his position as she arched.

She managed to plant a kiss on his chin and he smirked.

“It seems a shame when tools see more of my wife than I do.” She didn’t pull away when he leaned in, kissing her cheek.

Her response was a quiet laugh, her fingers reaching for his.


	47. Colder Seasons - Joel & Aina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He might have been joking about the mermaids, but she's the one who jumped in. Features Aina Dunn, my MC for Joel Crawford.

“I told you not to get in the water.” The young man’s tone, normally indifferent, had a teasing edge. It was directed at the green haired girl who was trying to wring out her cloak, her face drawn up in a scowl as more water than expected spilled from the cloth.

“I know that. You’ve reminded me about three times now, you jerk.” The girl gave up on the heavy wool, fingers reaching up to undo the ties keeping it on. She moved more easily once it was off, spreading it out on the grass by the lake in the hopes that it would dry.

“You went in. Why shouldn’t I tease you about it?” Mismatched eyes watched as she undid the clasps keeping her hair up, shaking out the now tangled, sodden mess. From beneath her bangs, gray eyes peered at him - unamused.

“You said you saw a mermaid. I wanted to know if you were pulling my leg or not.” Dragging her fingers through wet locks, she winced at the snags. “Besides, I got to see some Lunefish up close and personal.”

“I’m sure they appreciated that.” He saw her shiver and lift her hands to rub at her arms. Her uniform was completely soaked from the tumble and he was quick to remove his own cloak.

She stared at it when he offered it to her, glancing up at his face. “Won’t you be cold?”

“I’m not the one who decided to take a bath.” He shook the article of clothing at her, “It’ll be a while before yours is dry. I don’t want you to get sick. How would I take care of you then?”

Heat crept up her face, but she reluctantly took his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. She mumbled something he didn’t quite catch. “What?”

She shuffled her feet, looking down at the ground and he moved closer, concerned. Before he could say anything, she reached out and took his hand - even as she buried her face in the wide collar of his cloak.

“I said I don’t deserve you. You’re still so nice, and I’m an idiot.”

He frowned, tugging on her hand until she finally stepped closer so he could wrap his arms around her. She was still shivering, but leaned into the embrace. “You aren’t an idiot, just stubborn. I love that about you.” Turning his head, he placed a soft peck on the chilled skin of her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too, even if you tease me about mermaids.” Aina muttered, turning her head to nuzzle him.


	48. Time, It Took Us - Randolph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He keeps things. Glimpses at what might be, have been, could be. - C

“Good morning,” he says to no one visible as he wakes, allowing himself a smile as his mind runs through the memories. “It seems to be another day.” There is no response, hasn’t been for several decades, but he is already sitting up and stretching out the stiffness in his back.

His quarters are comfortable, toeing the line between sparse and tasteful. He simply likes to think that he has made an environment which makes the best of the experiences he’s had.

The first order of the day is to dress, breakfast, and prepare for class.

He prefers this time of the day, honestly. Things are soft to look at, which he finds amusing - as does the one who walks with him at night. In the hours before classes begin he takes the time to familiarize himself with his own self again.

Conrad liked to call the exercise somewhat ridiculous - not that he held it against the younger man.

“She likes her eggs sunny-side up, best on toast.” He recalls as he wipes down the dishes he’d used, stealing a sip of tea in the meantime. 

_“Randolph, you didn’t have to make me breakfast in bed. What about you?” She laughs, pushing aside the covers to take the tray from him with finely wrinkled hands._

“And Claude hated it when his soup was cold,” a chuckle left the brunette’s throat, eyes closing briefly as he lost himself in the memory.

_“You did it on purpose, I’m ready to swear it.” The man grumbled, half paying attention to the hand gently massaging the back of his neck. “But.. I do forgive you. This time, like every time.”_

“Ah, do you remember when you were caught going out? That was something, explaining it to them.” He could feel the hazy, shifting press of the other’s consciousness - a slow, deliberate jab to his temple for the reminder. He snorted, finally brushing back his hair for the day.

_“Just who are y- wait… I’ve seen you before.” Confusion replaced wariness temporarily, their features taking in the change which happened at night._

“Those were good times, weren’t they?” He asked the air, smiling softly - hands now still, comb back in its place.

All he need do now was go to his office and start the day.

Another day. Another night to go with it.

More surprises, he reassured himself. Every day brought several, at least.


	49. Finding - Klaus & Anima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years after Anima leaves the Academy, Klaus finds her again. Set for the Unhappy Ending, because jambajunkie has given me an appreciation for casual home-invader Klaus.

The townhouse was, for all appearances, empty. Exterior walls were painted an unassuming white, windows with curtains closed, and the shutters black. The only sign of occupation might be that a post box kept several letters tucked safely away from the elements, when he looked at one it had the name he was looking for. When he tried the door it was locked, though a muttered spell under his breath revealed no magical enchantments attached to the lock. Satisfied, though irked, he tapped the knob once with the tip of his wand, incantation leaving his lips with barely a thought.

Metal clicked, and the plain door swung open at a touch. Stepping inside and shutting the door, Klaus swept his gaze about the entryway. A mat lay before him so that one could get the dirt off their shoes. Ahead and to his right was a dark table, the wood lacquered until it was likely several shades darker than it would have been unfinished. Atop it was a lamp, stained glass depicting what looked like a trio of monarch butterflies - the curve of the lamp prevented him from seeing the whole of the picture, but he sensed no magic currently active within it.

Hardwood floor met his boots as he cautiously walked further in, rooms becoming visible to him as he did. A den, furniture soft and comfortable looking, a metalwork depiction of sparrows in flight catching his eye. There was a kitchen, cabinets dark and their handles gleaming in what sunlight through the paler curtains at the window. A set of stairs led up to the next floor, but he didn’t take them just yet.

He found her study tucked away just beyond the stairs, this time the door resisted his unlocking spell. Seals flared to life before him, some of the spellwork completely foreign even to his knowledge. A frown tugged at his mouth as he examined the chain of commands which made the spell, pausing at some of the key parts.

It reminded him of the seals Professor Conrad Schuyler would use to keep students out of his office day and night. That was to be expected of a former Royal Wizard, so finding such magic bearing her mark brought a complicated surge of pride through him. On the one hand, it meant she had improved tremendously since he had known her at the Academy - the other was a mix of concern and jealousy.

Had it been her father that taught her such a spell? Someone else?

The chain of words doubled back on itself and he caught it, the point where the magic had its chinks. Careful to utter only the necessary words, Klaus focused his magic into the spaces between the links of the seal. At first, there was no sign that it had worked. Then the chain began to dissolve, seal by seal flickering once before crumbling away. Part of him wondered what she kept in her study to warrant such magic.

Opening the door, he felt his eyes grow wide as he stood, enraptured. It was larger than he thought it would be, her study, or that was the illusion created by the arrangement of furniture. Before him, on the furthest wall, stretched out a map of the world - tiny pins placed over specific regions, gold colored thread forming a strange pattern between the sites from the heads of the pins. Notes were attached to the map as well, some much older than others unless his eyes judged the yellowing of the papers wrong.

Her desk and chair were situated so that she could reach the map at any time, and the leftover space was given over to a large shelf packed with books, a low table covered in papers and small, delicate seeming tools. A large of him wanted to know what they are for, how they worked.

Stepping inside, he breathed deep. The air had a faint scent to it, lavender or something close.

Her magic was strong in here, almost enough to be physical presence.

Wandering in, he took note that there was a coat resting on the back of the desk’s chair - slim in the shoulders, sleeves that would be much too short on him. There wasn’t an emblem of any sort on the lapel, so he felt it safe to assume it was a personal article. When he went to stand before the map, it happened.

From behind his ears caught the words of a spell, incantation itself lilting and foreign to him. Before he could turn, threads that looked as if spun from gold surrounded him, dragged him down to a knee. His hand strained to lift his wand, muscles aching as if he bore a weight twice that of himself. When he opened his mouth to utter a counter-spell the threads wove themselves over his lips, tasteless and airy, he could fight against them all he wanted but no sound would emerge.

“From your clothes I don’t believe that you are a simple thief.” A soft voice carried from what had to be the doorway, every muscle tensing and then relaxing once he had placed the cadence. The words were smooth, confident, her voice mature now. Lower than he remembered. He could hear the soft padding of her feet as she moved closer, each step measured and sure. “I’m willing to simply report this to the authorities if you leave. If you cause trouble then I’ll have to be more direct.”

Wind stirred his clothes as she approached and he wondered when she cast the spell. How he hadn’t heard her. The binding on him didn’t allow him to lift his head much, but he caught a glimpse of her loose, pale blouse and slitted skirt as she paused in front of him. The gap in fabric allowed him a peek of her calf, and under different circumstances it would be a distraction.

From how she drew back, he could imagine the surprise on her face.

After a long pause he watched her come closer, wand still held in a firm grip and the wind barrier still present, but her feet were small, pale against the wooden floor - bare and the toenails painted. He thought they might be daisies, but wasn’t sure.

“Klaus?” Her voice lost some its steadiness, but he could finally see her when she crouched down to get a better look at his face. Purple eyes were wide, examining his face intently. She’d changed, somewhat - no longer girlish in appearance. Perhaps an inch or so taller. Her hair had been left loose, streams of dark purple slipping over her shoulder as she regarded him. The barrier dissipated, last gusts stirring the ends of her hair and his.

Slender fingers reached out and touched his cheek, just above where the binding threads pressed into his skin. He tried to glare, found it harder than it seemed when his mouth was still partially open. Surprise slowly gave way to amusement in her gaze, the briefest flicker of warmth softening her expression.

He hoped he hadn’t imagined it.

“For all the grief you gave me during the Trial, now I have you under my spell.” Anima’s chuckle was low, a huskiness to it that made his heart skip a beat. His jaw worked as he tried to respond, shoulders barely managing to shift as he strained to move.

Just what was this enchantment anyway?

“Stop that.” The warmth faded from her face and she curled the fingers resting against his cheek. They dipped under the threads, guiding them out of his mouth and away from his skin. Instinctively he closed his mouth and swallowed, running his tongue over the roof to moisten it. Once he no longer felt like his gullet was lined with sandpaper he managed to speak.

“Just what do you have in here that needs such a ridiculous spell?” Tone harsh, perhaps harsher than intended, but he didn’t like someone getting the drop on him. Even if that someone was her.

In response, her lips curled into a small smile. “I make my living off research into ancient spells and artifacts, Klaus. Does the Ministry not recommend keeping such things under lock and key?” She tugged on the threads, lightly, but to him it felt as though his body were being tightly squeezed by a giant hand. Clenching his jaw, he suppressed the hiss that wanted to escape. Anima regarded him for a moment, as though she had trouble believing he were actually within her home, before she set her wand down and leaned close.

He could smell her perfume, feel the heat off her body and the cool brush of her hair against his skin. Her hands reached for something at the middle of his back, pulling the threads taunt for a moment before they snapped under her touch. Relief was instant, satisfying, but not as much as her sudden gasp when he snapped forward and gathered her in her arms. She was still small, but she fit against him just like he remembered.

When he pulled her back, nearly into his lap, she squirmed, tried to get her arms free - either around him or between them. Klaus buried his face against her neck, one hand sneaking into the long tresses of her hair. “You left. Without as much as a goodbye. Care to explain that to me, Anima?”

She went stiff against him, breath hot against his ear. It may have been imagination, wishful thinking, but it almost seemed as though she trembled for a second. Fingers curled into his coat, slow and unsure, or so he thought.

“I did.” Her voice was quiet, a hint of regret in it.

Just that, that alone, made him want to hold her tighter, to never let go.

“Why?” Pulling back, he could see the blush on her face now. How her brows were drawn together and she wouldn’t quite meet his gaze - the expression like that of a kitten, he recalled thinking once. A kitten that wanted affection, but on its own mercurial terms.

“You hardly associate with failure, Klaus. What would I have said? What would you have said, had I come to your office without passing?” She glanced at him, hurt buried in cool detachment.

“We could have talked about it, at least. You didn’t need to run off.” His words took on an edge of their own, augmented by the five years he’d spent looking, scrying for any mention of her. “You speak as though you didn’t expect me to even look for you.”

“I didn’t.” The words hit him like a blow, more effective than the Nue he’d fought and killed those years ago. Her face shifted, apology warring with pensiveness. “No… That’s not true. I thought you might come looking, since you are nothing if not damnably persistent. But that is the benefit of my work - it can take me out of the country.”

He thought of the occasions he’d expected to run into her - the rich frequented the same sort of parties, and her father had made an appearance at many, but always alone except for the person he guarded. The slim, androgynous man had turned aside all his questions, barely sparing a blink in his direction whenever they encountered one another.

He thought she was just as infuriating, if not more so. At least with her, he lacked the urge to wring her neck.

“So you pursued a career like this just to avoid me? One that relates its findings to the Ministry?” Raising a brow, he watched her soak in the challenge of his words, seeing a spark of defiance in her eyes.

“I chose this career because I wanted it, Klaus. I wanted to get my license at the Academy.” Her tone might have caused a frost, were she a spellsinger but her demeanor softened a moment after. “My father said that it was a poor choice and not to meddle in things which have no merit. With you as my Buddy and how hard you tried to help me pass, do you think I wanted to disappoint you that much?” She squirmed again, features twisting with discomfort, so he pushed off the ground - she latched onto him with a gasp, holding on as he stood and carried her against him.

“Put me down, you can’t just cart me around in my own home.” He felt his lips quirk at that, the imperiousness in her voice doing a moderately impressive job of hiding her embarrassment. Tightening his arms to hold her in place, he made his way to her desk and deposited them both into her chair. It was lower than he liked, but her legs were shorter. He would tolerate it.

“Hush. It was more of a disappointment to find to find you gone than it would have been if you’d just come to me.” With her weight in his lap, he could almost pretend that they were back in that time - her bustling about his office and occasionally asking a question, the date of her Judgment slowly creeping nearer. Anima tucked her legs across his as best she could, miffed still that he’d manhandled her.

She snuck a glance at his face, something new in her eyes and he decided to call her on it.

“What? Can’t look away now that you’ve seen me?” A smirk tugged at his lips, he felt his eyes curve somewhat as he looked down at her. Her eyes narrowed as she shot him an unimpressed look. A moment of silence stretched before she spoke, one of her small hands hesitantly touching his.

“You look more tired than I remember. Knowing you, you never give yourself a break.” Her huff was tiny, mostly for show, but the concern in her statement was real. His chest tightened at that. “I’ve kept up with your career, you know. Isn’t two dark wizards enough?”

“Not until they’re all gone.” He said it with a quiet vehemence, one practitioner in particular coming to mind.

Anima gave him another look, from beneath her lashes, and it struck him how different it was now than before.

It was never so tempting to just kiss her when she’d looked at him like that back then - or his self-control had gotten weaker.

“You aren’t allowed to get hurt, Klaus Goldstein. Who will lecture me then?” Her hand squeezed his, her body slowly relaxing against him. Closing his eyes as he chuckled, he let himself have this moment.

There was still so very much to address, but she’d tucked her head against his chest and that was all he wanted at the moment. And that kiss.


	50. Wet Sugar - Azusa & Luca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca comments on Klaus' choice of tea as he entertains his boyfriend's own definition of it.

“Are you sure that’s even tea at this point, sir?” Luca found himself staring at the china cup dubiously, unable to believe that someone could put that much sugar in their drink and have no problem ingesting it. His expression twisted as Azusa’s foot slowly pressed down on his own, right in the center of the arch.

The Onmyoji’s expression remained neutral as he poured a cup for his boyfriend and himself, though blue eyes did flick incredulously towards the Prefect’s cup while the blond man was focused on the Academy’s most infamous troublemaker.

Klaus stirred his drink slowly, peering at Luca over the edge of his glasses. His tone, to an innocent bypasser, might have been indifferent. “I don’t see why you have to comment. The tea from Hinomoto is so bitter I don’t know how you stand it.”

Azusa paused briefly as he set the teapot down, glancing at the Prefect from the corner of his eye. Luca watched them both, eager to see what might occur. One of the Onmyoji’s fingers gently tapped the lid of the teapot, Azusa’s lips parting minutely as he thought.

“Well, you see… in my country we care for the well-being of our people, and restrict our sugar intake so we don’t crash like fools over our work.”

The sole brunette brought his cup to his lips, sipping delicately as his partner repressed a chuckle. The pressure on Luca’s foot eased, much to his relief.

“I didn’t know we were discussing Randy without his knowledge. Forgive me, I’ll bring my folders next time if you wish to discuss his sugar intake.” The up and coming Ministry agent smirked, ignoring the way Luca failed to mask a laugh for a cough.

“Pity. You missed some crucial years of growth.” Azusa lifted a shoulder, eyes closing for the duration of the tiny shrug.

The green haired wizard decided that was enough for one sitting, bringing his cup to his lips and drinking - only with a minor wince this time. “Alright, change of topic you two.”


	51. A Change of Fate - Elias & Joel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias encounters one of the rarer branches of magic, and the magic of the Academy makes a decision without their consent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gift written for Jinx (gorecorset on tumblr) because they had it rough one day.

He hadn’t meant to stumble across the young man practicing, more like he had only thought of tracking Luca Orlem down and making sure the truant did his assigned dorm chores _without magic_ this time. The botanical gardens hadn’t yielded any results, nor had the lake - which was the spot he thought the green haired student favored most.

Elias honestly wouldn’t be able to say why he’d decided to check the Auditorium. No one went there unless there was to be a public announcement, school event, or a provisional student’s Judgment. Rather than the empty hall he’d expected, the sounds of someone singing reached his ears.

He paused, listening - prepared to lecture whoever it was that the Auditorium was not the place to be for such a pastime, when it finally clicked.

Near to the dais where the Scale of Judgment stood, a student gestured with measured grace at nothing in particular as he sang. Elias wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought the boy’s range was a tenor’s, as it was higher and softer than the vague memory he had of hearing others sing.

At some point he’d moved closer, surprised to see particles of light dancing through the air around the other boy. He could sense magic, and it struck him that he was witnessing a spellsinger’s art.

The song ended, final notes ringing pleasantly throughout the Auditorium. He thought he could understand why the boy would come here now, the high walls and arched ceiling providing better acoustics than a regular classroom might. Elias raised his hands, meaning to applaud but cutting himself off.

He’d just walked in on the other practicing, so wouldn’t it be rude to clap?

The boy’s eyes opened, mismatched colors zooming in on him. One eye was like a piece of amber, the other distinct turquoise. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before the darker haired boy moved.

Brushing his hands off as if to clean them, those sharp eyes went to one of the few windows and took in the time before sliding back to Elias. The look was largely indifferent, pale face set in a neutral expression that reminded the blond of his roommate.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? It’s rude.” Now that he wasn’t singing, Elias could hear the slightly deeper pitch of the other’s voice, the words being directed at him causing heat to flood his cheeks.

“I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I was looking for someone else! What do you think you’re doing here, anyway?!” Folding his arms, Elias met the other’s eye.

The boy shrugged, unaffected by the outburst. “It’s not like anyone ever said to stay out. I can practice where I want.”

“You don’t own the place, you know.” Narrowing violet eyes, Elias stepped closer, drawing himself up. It seemed to have no effect, just as his words slid by the other boy’s ears like water off a smooth stone.

“Neither do you. Stop trying to police others just to make yourself feel better.” A hint of something crossed the boy’s face, but it was gone before the blond had the chance to examine it.

He moved forward, dropping his arms from their folded position, mouth opening to issue a retort when a brilliant light filled the room - momentarily blinding both of them. Their Emblems glowed, twin spheres of light emerging from the metal and heading for a collision with one another. In the ensuing shower of sparks, Elias and the spellsinger stared at one another - equal parts shock and disbelief.

Something darkened the other boy’s face, causing his striking eyes to narrow sharply. “No. _No. You aren’t my Buddy._ ”

At a loss, anger stirring within his chest, Elias snapped, “And what does that mean?!”

“None of your business.” Scowling, the brunette turned on his heel and stormed away, deaf to the call for him to wait.

Elias stared after him, throat aching from raising his voice - confused, angry, and oddly, saddened.


	52. Found Traditions - Luca & Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca gets recruited by Elias to try out something new for the winter season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gift written for gedonelune-romance. Merry Christmas!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Luca found it amusing that he, typically more devil-may-care than his companion, was the one questioning the sanctity of their current plan. Elias huffed, trudging along in the shin-deep snow as he hefted the wooden sled with some difficulty. It looked heavy, but the blond had insisted that he carry it for the time being.

“It will be fine.” Small puffs of white accompanied Elias’ words, though the way it rose from behind his thick barrier of scarves reminded the green haired boy of steam from hot chocolate. He wanted to snicker at the thought, very nearly did, but stopped himself last minute. Instead, Luca focused on the words Elias was mumbling as he tried not to fall into a snowbank. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said,” the shorter boy stressed, hauling himself up with a muffled grunt of effort, “that I found a hill to try this on. Yukiya once told me that this was supposed to be fun so…” Elias stopped himself there, face tilting downwards and Luca didn’t need to imagine the blush that was probably spreading over his sweet face.

Prince Elias, wanting to try something as common and mundane as sledding? And he’d chosen him, of all people, to try it with? Not Yukiya, who apparently had experience?

His chest felt too warm for a moment and Luca took that chance to alter his stride, stepping close to his classmate and grabbing the short length of rope that was attached to the curled part of the sled. Elias made a noise, muffled by his scarves, surprised and off-balance as Luca shouldered most of the weight dragging the smaller boy down.

Grinning softly at the wide violet eyes staring up at him, Luca chuckled. “Alright. How about you lead the way and I carry our magic carpet?”

It might have been his imagination, but he thought Elias’ cheeks got a little darker in that moment - their faces close together and the steam from their breath temporarily warming Luca’s face.

“Y-you don’t have to, I can -”

“Elias,” he cut the other boy off, adjusting the sled’s weight so that it would be harder for him to grab back. “Let me help once in a while. Sometimes I actually mean it.” He added, grin turning a little rueful.

“A-alright. Just t-tell me if it g-gets too heavy.” Elias eyed him and the sled over his back dubiously, but finally resumed his trek once he realized that Luca wasn’t budging.

-

The hill, closer to the edge of the town than he thought Elias would be comfortable with, wasn’t terribly large or steep but it was the closest they could get to something appropriate to what Yukiya had described to his roommate. Once they’d set the sled down, after estimating the proper distance from the crest of the hill to make sliding down easier.

“And that’s it?” Luca felt his brows lift a little once Elias finished explaining, shifting his gaze towards their borrowed sled. His companion nodded, glancing at the sled as well and then back up to him. The taller boy couldn’t help but ask the obvious, “So who gets to be in front?”

“W-well…” The blond trailed off, lifting a mitten-topped hand to his covered mouth. He found it cute how the other boy still did that, even when he could stroke his lips without exposing his face to the cold. “Yukiya said that it was easier if a larger person were in front, to help ground the sled.”

“Are you calling me fat, Elias?” He couldn’t help it, laughter bubbling up rich and deep from his belly as his friend sputtered and turned a shade of red closer to that of his checkered scarf. Luca found that he could taste the crispness of the air, the chill pure and almost sweet even as it entered the warmer confines of his lungs, chilling him.

“I-If you’d rather be in front then I-” Elias was trying to speak past his embarrassment, arms stiff at his sides and hands unable to ball up properly due to his thick mittens. Luca almost bad for cutting him off, but kept smiling even as he tried getting his breath back to normal. “Calm down Prince Elias, I don’t mind holding you so you don’t fall.”

It rendered the other boy mute for a good couple of seconds, eyes going round over the jumbled cloth protecting the lower portion of his face. Luca could imagine his lips parted in surprise, a peek of a warm pink tongue. He made himself look away, gesturing fluidly to the sled. “Hop on. We should probably try it out before we lose too much light, ya know?”

Elias didn’t move, not at first, and Luca worried that he might have said too much and turned him away from the idea of sharing the sled. It could be done with one person, the older boy supposed, but the one they had was long enough for two and what if it flipped as the blond went down?

Not that a little tumble would really do much besides fluster the other boy, he reasoned - already liking the idea far more than he should.

“Alright. Just… don’t try anything.” Elias’ muffled statement broke him from his reverie and he watched as he slowly positioned himself on the sled. Hands taking up the short rope, legs spread to brace against the wooden sides of the sled.

Taking a moment to swallow as those keen, curious?, eyes peered up at him from below, Luca slowly moved to do the same. Much as he did like getting a better look at the youngest Goldstein’s face, they’d come here with a mission in mind - and he was interested enough to see it through.

He scooted forward once he sat down, until his chest touched Elias’ back and his thighs pressed lightly against the other boy’s. Almost certain that the blonde had stiffened considerably, Luca took his time in wrapping his arms around the other boy’s middle, drawing him back just a little so that Elias was leaning against him.

“W-w-hat are y-you..?” Elias’ fringe tickled the older boy’s cheek as he tried to turn his head, pin the prankster with a confused gaze. It didn’t quite work, given how close they were, but Luca smiled all the same.

“It’s better like this, right? I am bigger than you, so if something happens I can take the brunt of it.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes at the stutter attempting to leave the blond’s mouth. “Besides,” he interrupted quietly, lowering his head until the chilled fabric of Elias’ scarf touched his cheek - the warmth from the other boy’s skin slowly seeping through and tempting him to stay that way, “I get to hold you, Prince.”

“S-stop calling me that!” He heard a creak from the rope, likely because Elias had tightened his hold on it in frustration. An instant later, however, he felt him reluctantly relax into his embrace. “F-fine. It should b-be s-simple… just move our legs until we slide down the hill.”

Luca nodded, lifting his head up and straightening a little. It took some coordination, and discovering that it went easier if Elias tucked his legs into the safety of the sled, but they managed to approach the hill’s crest. 

Before them was a field of white, broken only by the thick cotton gray of the clouds and the distant buildings of Gedonelune’s capital town. Roughly behind them was the Academy, the castle’s walls a dull gray-brown without any bright rays of sun to warm it. He felt Elias shiver, maybe from the cold, or excitement, and gently gave his middle a squeeze.

“Ready?” Luca whispered, feeling the shell of Elias’ ear against his lips. The blond definitely shivered that time, but nodded all the same. The taller boy moved his legs, dragging them closer to the edge. Unconsciously, he held his breath as they tipped - gravity taking its due and momentum building as they went down.

Wind stung Luca’s cheeks, his hair lifting a little on the descent and his stomach followed suit. His arms tightened around Elias’ middle, the other boy’s weight falling back on his thighs. What might of been Elias’ gasp reached his ears a couple of seconds too late, but they were going, going down and it was faster than he’d expected.

Solid white came rushing up to meet them, Luca’s eyes nearly closing to protect them from the chilly air. It looked a little intimidating, pure, unbroken white rising to meet them and - oh, they were going to - 

The thought was lost because impact came, the level ground a sudden surprise to the both of them. Luca had thought it might be smoother than that, but it was hard to think that as he and Elias tumbled from the sled, rolling in the snow as they separated.

Snow stung Luca’s cheeks, piercing and sudden, other parts of him rebelling at the melting ice that threatened to slip down his collar and, possibly, into his pants and shoes. It took him a moment to realize that he was laughing, low and soft, but his chest was moving and his breath came out in bursts of cooling white once it left his lips.

That… that had actually been enjoyable. He wouldn’t mind doing it again, now that he knew what to expect.

“L-Luca?! Are you alright?” Snow crunched as it was packed further towards the ground than its natural descent intended, Elias’ disheveled form entered his vision. The prince had lost one of his scarves and the remaining one hung loosely around his neck now, dark blue a contrast to his brown overcoat.

“Y-yeah.” He responded, breathing deep and tasting snowflakes on his tongue, carefully pushing himself up to better get a view of himself.

Well, it looked like they’d churned up quite a bit of the snow with their sudden stop. But other than the loss of Elias’ scarf, and the chill invading various parts of Luca’s person, neither of them seemed worse for wear. Turning his gaze back to the other boy, he grinned. “Want to go again?”


	53. Reaching Out - Schuyler & Luca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actions and words shape a person.

“Luca.” The voice makes him jerk in surprise, green eyes slowly lifting from the pages of the book which had looked the most interesting at the time. Outside of the small lamp he’d been allowed, there was only darkness and somewhere a towering stack of volumes he’d yet to read. His fingers tightened around the covers of the book defensively, but the boy kept his face as blank as possible.

“What?” It came out more challenging than he really intended, small shoulders hunching beneath the only thick blanket he had thrown over himself. The older man seemed to tower from the darkness, lamplight making the sharp blue eyes doing their best to pin him beneath their gaze.

His guardian’s arms folded over his chest, rich brown coat with gold trim making him seem larger than he really was. “My shelves and cabinets. Someone saw fit to glue them shut.” The older wizard’s eyes narrowed. “Someone who shouldn’t have been outside.”

The accusation was there, beneath the sternness and what seemed like condescension. He stiffened a little more under the blanket, raising a hand to tug the blanket a little tighter around his person. A large part of him wished the lamp gave off more heat, but the light was enough to read by. And, when he could, try and practice magic.

“So? It could have been anyone.” Feeling his mouth twist into a frown, Luca lowered his head back to the book. If he squinted it could look like he was concentrating on the words, not just deliberately ignoring his only visitor.

Schuyler’s shoes clacked against the floor as he came closer, the swish of his cloak making a shiver run down the boy’s back. He could sense the impatience in his guardian, figured that next would come a lecture.

Gloved fingers took hold of the book, pulling it from his tensed grasp with surprising care. Luca protested, leaning forward to snatch it back. It brought him within easy reach for the older man, who took the opportunity to lift him up in a one-armed embrace. Schuyler’s coat was thick, the outside somewhat rough to the touch but the lace at his throat was the most irritating to the boy’s skin.

He wriggled, resisting as he was lifted further up and the man’s other arm wrapping around him to better support his weight. It put him right against his guardian’s chest and if he turned his head he could press his cheek against one broad shoulder.

“I know you don’t like it down here, Luca.” The murmur came from above his head, warm breath stirring green strands of hair. A hand on his back rubbed a small circle between his shoulder blades, the older wizard’s warmth slowly seeping into him the longer he was held. “But this is a safe place. You will be safe here.”

“Safe from what?” The boy demanded, finally shifting enough that he could tighten his arms around his guardian’s neck. He wanted to know. There had to be a reason why he couldn’t go outside, see the sun or the moon or the stars the books he read described. Was it because he wasn’t that good at magic yet? That he didn’t have a wand?

Was something wrong with him?

There was no response to his question. It didn’t surprise him, per say. His guardian never gave any reason for why he was here. Only that he was being kept safe.

It was light, hesitant, gone before he could properly register it - but he’d been kissed on the temple. Luca scrunched his face up, burying it in thick wool as his chest tightened. The feeling didn’t go away, only got worse and he didn’t want to cry. He was too old to cry, right?

“Everyone else is asleep now.” Schuyler’s voice emerged again, low and soft. It blended with the shadows and the circle of light afforded by the sole lamp. He waited for the man to continue, blinking hard several times to clear his foggy vision. “Would you like to see something new?”

His interest piqued immediately and he nodded, curling his short fingers tight in the man’s coat. To his surprise, he wasn’t set down again before the older man turned and started walking - at ease enough in the darkness of the cellar to move around without fear of hitting something. They took the stairs slowly, quietly, and he hadn’t known that his guardian knew how to move like that.

The door, the door he wasn’t supposed to open loomed before them and it swung out easily at Schuyler’s push. He turned his head to see the hall, carpet and stone, portraits and windows - all still new to him. Outside, what he glimpsed from the windows as they passed, what must be the sky looked dark and tiny lights that had to be stars shined brighter than he’d thought they would.

They stopped at a room, he’d forgotten to keep track of where they were going - too busy trying to look around, see all that he could. It was further than he’d ever been in the castle, this had to be a castle because he could think of no other place that might be so large. As his guardian stood still, he finally turned his head to look at what seemed to hold the man’s gaze so thoroughly.

He felt his eyes go round in his head, mouth falling open a little as he stared.

A tree, taller even than his guardian stood proudly at the heart of the room, thick green branches layered in baubles meant to catch the light and shine. Due to the hour, many of the lights - enchanted and otherwise - had gone out or burned very low. It made the tree glow to his eyes, like a dream.

-

He watched the expression of wonder grow on his charge’s face, green eyes slowly moving over the tree as if to take in the details. Commit them to memory. It was, perhaps, the most positive expression he had ever seen on Luca’s face. It nearly reminded him of the Princess, when she was absolutely taken by something that piqued her interest.

Lifting a hand, he carefully brushed back strands of emerald green hair - glancing at the earring dangling from one small, white ear as he did so. The gem glinted in the remaining light, but it still didn’t compare to the awe on the little boy’s face.

“Merry Christmas, Luca.” He said it softly, partly afraid that his voice might break the spell which had settled over the small child.

His little head turned, ear perking to catch what he’d said, but it seemed to take the child a supreme effort to pull his eyes away from the tree. Green eyes looked wet, but when he passed his thumb under the boy’s eyes his skin was dry.

“Can we stay? Please? I don’t want to go.” The child’s lips trembled, and tiny fingers held on to his coat with all their strength. “It was me - the cabinets. I didn’t want you to go.”

He might have flinched, was almost sure of it.

Adjusting his hold on his charge, Schuyler softly cleared his throat. “Would you like to touch the tree?”

No one was supposed to, of course. But it might help convince Luca that this was, indeed, real. He supposed he’d guessed correctly when he saw the boy’s face light up again, excitement in those familiar eyes bright as the moon.


	54. Snippets - Aina Dunn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at before and after the Acceptance Letter came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Further expanding the beginnings of Aina Dunn, my character for Joel. No real spoilers here.

“Aina, are you sure you can carry that?” The inquiry was answered with a quick nod and a grunt of effort as thin arms hefted the crate, adjusting her hold and balance as she began to tip. “It’s alright. Just a bunch of bags anyway.” Her dismissive answer was met with a chuckle and a curious look from a boy not much older than five. He stared at the green haired girl as she shuffled after the other, taller, woman who’d asked after her.

“If you can use magic, why not float it?” The boy’s tone was innocent, keen on what seemed to be the simplest solution to a perceived problem. Aina took a chance to blow loose strands of hair from her face, eyeing him as he walked to keep up with her rather than his mother.

“I don’t know that spell yet.” She conceded, hefting the crate up. “And if I did, what if I lost focus and hit somebody? So I’m carrying it the old fashioned way.” Feeling proud of her answer, she smiled at the pensive little boy.

His tiny mouth pursed and he kicked at a pebble as he spoke, tone indifferent. “You would hit somebody. You’re not that good at magic, just at making pies and talking to animals.”

“Hey! I’m learning. Like you are, with reading.” Her face felt like it might have warm coals under her skin, pride stung even though she knew he meant no harm. Small brown eyes swung up to her, a frown on his little face.

“But you’re already a grown-up and you still can’t read that good. You misspell words a lot, the teacher said.”

“Matthew!” His mother’s voice cut off whatever reply Aina would have made, the older woman’s face clouded with embarrassment and a bit of shame. The boy looked between the two older woman, confused. “But it’s true. You said to always tell the truth. Aina can’t read and she can’t spell.”

“That’s beside the point young man. You shouldn’t go off and say all that you think you know all the time like that.” The brunette woman dropped back so that she could take her son by the arm - he squirmed at the steady, firm grip but otherwise didn’t push his luck.

“It’s alright.” Aina cleared her throat, adjusting her grip on the crate. It was starting to slip and her arms were getting tired. “He’s right. I should have practiced more over the summer.”

“I’m sorry, you know he doesn’t mean anything by it. Just has his father’s mouth is all.” A weary, fond look softened the woman’s expression and she gently squeezed Matthew’s arm once before letting go.

“Like I said.” Hiding her face by pretending to peer into the crate at the burlap and twine packages inside, Aina gathered up a smile. Shooting Matthew a look from beneath her lashes, she teased, “Besides. You misspell things too. And I’m not the only grown-up who can’t read well. You forgetting old Mr. Bennett?”

“But he’s old. _Really_ old.” Matthew shot back, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“And who begs me for tarts and pies when he doesn’t want to eat his big sister’s meatballs?” Aina’s tone took on an overly sweet, sing-song quality - devolving into a laugh at the face the little boy pulled.

_“Yuck.”_

“Matthew. Your sister is trying, you should be grateful.”

Aina smothered a laugh as the boy continued to make a disgusted face, inwardly relieved when their small group resumed walking. It wasn’t far to the older woman’s storefront, thankfully, she made sure to give the ornery tabby cat a wide berth as she stepped inside the shop itself. Golden eyes blinked lazily up at her, tail thumping against the floor.

“You said you’d bring treats the next time you stopped by.” He commented, affronted. His tail thumped twice more, like a schoolmaster’s cane.

“And I did, just give me a minute.” Aina hushed, setting the crate by the rest that had arrived that morning. From her pocket she drew a small, badly sewn mouse with a pudgy middle. The scent of catnip made the tabby’s ears perk, pupils expanding as he sniffed the air. She tossed it to him, grinning when he batted it out of the air and pounced on it.

“Aina, why are you learning magic?” Matthew’s voice caught her attention, making her turn to face him. Somehow, through the magic of little boys, he had a patchwork of dirt smudges across his face already. She licked her thumb and scrubbed at one, laughing when he protested with an indignant ‘gross!’ and shied away.

“To get into Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy. It’s the best school in the nation, at the capital. I wanna go so I can get better at magic and actually do things - like floating boxes and not hitting people.” Her lips twisted into a smile when Matthew scowled at her, partly enjoying the repayment.

“I hope you don’t get in.” He stated seriously, brown eyes focused on her face. “I don’t want you to go that far away.”

She felt her chest tighten a little and worked up a smile. Reaching out, she gave his messy brown hair a ruffle. “Stop trying to butter me up. I know what you want.” Pulling out her wand - longer, more balanced than the one she’d come to the town with when she was eight. She spoke the words for the conjuring spell she knew by heart. The first she’d ever learned, before her parents had passed, and one of the reasons she hadn’t gone longer without food when she’d left.

In her hand, a pastry took shape - crust golden brown and warm in her palm. The smell of peaches filled the room and she added a thumb-sized dollop of sweet cream to the top for an added treat.

Watching his face light up at the sight of her magic, a sense pride filled her chest. Made her feel a little better. When she offered the pastry he took it, hastily scarfing it down before his mother could find out.

“Hey, I don’t know how to make a magical drink so don’t eat so fast. You’ll choke.”

“S’good! Hanks!” Was his only reply, mouth full of fruit, bread and cream.

Shaking her head, Aina went to unpack the crate and get her share.

-

The words on the page were faded, ink brown instead of black. She squinted at them, willing them to make sense as her lips moved to sound then out. It was supposed to be a simple incantation, to summon a small wind and use it to move objects around. She’d tried it once, poured her magic into her wand, but the only result had been a puff of smoke and part of her living room wall now sported daffodils growing from it.

Maybe she’d mispronounced a word, or several. It wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Much as she dreaded making another list of words to take to the bookstore’s keeper and learning them from a dictionary, she’d do it if it meant she could accomplish another spell.

Just as she was about to try again, marking her place with a pen between the book’s pages, a knocking sound came from her front door. Aina paused, wand already aloft and listened for a voice.

“Are you in there?! Don’t tell me they gave me bad directions - just how hard should it be to find someone with that description?!” The voice was muffled by the door, but loud enough that she could easily discern the irritation in every word. Whoever it was knocked again, this time in rapid, impatient succession.

They sounded male - but that was all she recognized.

Slowly, she moved away from her worktable and made her way to one of the side windows to peek out. The angle was slightly awkward, but she couldn’t see anyone standing at the front of her house. Knocking came again, this time more exasperated than anything.

“Come on, somebody has to be home! I’m on a deadline here! If you don’t open this - ah-ha!”

Something small and quick flew up, darting around her roof. She couldn’t quite make out what the thing was - certainly not a person. She saw it whirl around a spot in particular, right over the chimney. Ducking out of the window, Aina took long strides towards the fireplace and readied her wand. Soot emerged in puffs from the fireplace, coating everything it touched until the thing popped out with a triumphant cry of ‘finally!’

“Who the heck are you?” She watched as it froze, it being a… piece of paper?

Aina stared at it, suddenly unsure of what she was looking at. It was definitely paper, it spoke, but it didn’t appear to be like any magic note she’d ever seen before. Her visitor hovered, one corner of its body twitching - like someone was trying to dog-ear a page but couldn’t quite fold it right.

“I, young miss, am much too important to be reduced to flying through chimneys just to talk to someone.” The twitching edge straightened and the paper floated a little higher, a lecturer drawing itself up to full blast. “And if you KNEW I WAS AT THE DOOR WHY DIDN’T YOU ANSWER?!” The sudden spike in volume made her draw back, pressing her free hand against one ear protectively.

For a being that didn’t have vocal cords, it could yell up a storm.

“I didn’t know who you were! Do you think I open the door for whoever comes passing by?” She shot back, drawing a bead on the center of the paper with the tip of her wand.

“Certainly you must not get many visitors if you treat everyone has you’ve treated me!” It darted to her right, out of her imagined line of fire and froze by the flowers growing out of her wall.

“That’s none of your business! Why don’t you just say who you are and then leave, or do I need to use you for the stove?” Redirecting her wand, she forced the blush out of her cheeks. No way was she going to be embarrassed in front of a talking bit of paper.

“Ha! I sincerely doubt you even know the spell to summon fire if this is your best efforts at magic.” It flicked its uppermost right corner at the daffodils condescendingly, facing her without apparent fear now. “Perhaps I was sent out to the wrong person after all.”

“I know how to make a torch.” She lowered her voice, a promise laced into the words. “So who sent you, since you’re so keen on holding it over my head?”

Puffing itself up once more, the page straightened out entirely. “I am the Acceptance Letter of Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy,” pompous tone fading into slight venom, it continued, “which you would have known had you opened the door when I knocked.”

Aina felt herself stare, disbelief the strongest thing coursing through her head. It was quickly followed by the embarrassment she’d pushed aside before, made worse now that she knew who she’d just threatened. Then its words caught up to her, bringing back her irritation. “I told you, I don’t open the door to just anyone who happens by.” A second passed and her emotions mixed uncomfortably until she added, “I’m sorry I said that I would set you on fire.”

“Good. You seem to have manners after all.” Fluttering its edges, the Letter lowered itself so that it was more or less eye-level with her. “I’m here to take you to the Academy. Had we spoken normally we would already be underway. You can be packed and ready in under twenty minutes, I hope?”

 _“What?!”_ She felt her eyes widen, wand hand going slack in surprise.

“The train. It departs in nineteen minutes and thirty-two seconds.” The Letter explained, matter-of-fact.

Aina turned, flicking her wand at the sooty mess littering the floor and furniture. It rose, whirling, and much to the Letter’s irritation swirled by it and back into the fireplace. The next minutes were a chaotic jumble – as if everything had suddenly been misplaced or vanished entirely right when she needed to find it.

The dash for the train station was the fastest she’d run in ten years.

-

“So this is the Academy?” Aina thought she felt her eyes strain a little to take in everything around her – the castle, the grounds she passed, but the lack of people was the most surprising. Until she remembered that they were likely in classes. The newness of the school uniform made it feel a little stiff, thick wool to keep out the chill of autumn and cold of the winter months. She was surprised to find that everything fit, even the stockings and boots.

The Letter remained silent within her bag, just simple paper now. She studied the map again, trying to put the minimalist design to rights in her head. Three buildings, one significantly larger than the other two. That was all well and good, but which was the right dorm?

Were the wizards and wizardesses here just so talented that they were above the need to label their maps?

“Well if that’s the case I might be doomed.” Muttering softly under her breath, eyes fixed on the page, she failed to notice the person walking in the direction opposite herself. The collision took her entirely by surprise – bag and map falling from her hands as she fell backwards, face reddening at making a fool of herself just in the doorway of her time at the Academy.

The person she’d hit, or hit her, whichever, was… very handsome. And tall.

And he had better reaction time than her too, up and offering her a hand before she recalled that normal people didn’t gawk at strangers.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Blue eyes curved up at the corners as he smiled, one slim, pale hand extended towards her. She felt hesitant about taking it – first because she had the feeling he might be able to lift her up like she was a paper doll and that would just make her feel even more stupid, and second because she’d gotten herself into the mess and ought to dig herself out.

“No, no, I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m sorry… uh…” Did he have a name?

“Azusa. Azusa Kuze.” If anything, his smile seemed to deepen. If he took offense to her refusal of his hand, he didn’t show it. When he stooped to retrieve her bag and map though, she felt her face flush again.

“Hey – you don’t have to, I’m pretty sure I ran into you and -”

“It’s no trouble.” Came his smooth reply, her bag offered back just as kindly as his hand had been. She took it, about to reach for the unmarked map when he glanced at it. Realization crossed his face for a brief second, followed by understanding.

“I see. You’re a new student?” Azusa returned the map without her having to ask, which she found nice. “I was wondering why I felt I hadn’t seen you before. Not many here have your hair color.”

Aina tugged on a loose strand of her hair in response, eying the pale shade of green in the afternoon light. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s commented on it. But yeah, I’m new. Actually looking for the dorm, the girl’s dorm.” She corrected herself, looking up in time to catch his lips quirking on the left side like she’d amused him.

“Here. I’ll point it out.” He stepped closer, leaning a little to point out directions on the paper, then lifting his hand to show her by landmark. She let herself nod, glancing down at the map once more to solidify the image in her head.

“Thanks. You’re… nicer than I expected.” When he’d stepped back, she offered her version of a close-lipped smile.

“Glad to be of assistance.” Azusa raised a hand to his heart, head tilting the faintest bit to the side as he did so.

-

“Amelia, what does this mean?” Now comfortable with the notion of having a roommate – really, Amelia Nile seemed to be one of the nicest people on the campus – and working off excess nervousness about starting classes, Aina held up the syllabus she’d picked at random. One was enough to understand, a list of needed supplies and textbooks. She’d been afraid, initially, that she would need to purchase the books but Amelia had quickly nipped that one in the bud.

The paper she held in her hand read like an impossibly tall order – the required reading alone was enough to make her stomach clench.

It didn’t make her confident that her reading skills would be up to par, or her magic. Was it really a good idea to fill a room full of people with magical talent and teach them how to Curse one another?

Amelia plucked the sheet from her hold gently, turning it over to read. Quickly her expression fell, it was like watching a cloud obscure the sun in order to herald a rainy day. “Oh. I forgot he added more to the list from last year.”

“Who?” Aina cocked her head, rocking back on her bed.

Her bed. Slightly larger and, debatably, more comfortable than her own back home. She missed the familiar sounds of her house, but the easy atmosphere that her roommate kept made it a little easier.

“Well, you’ll meet him tomorrow.” The orange-haired girl gave the syllabus back, working up a sympathetic smile as Aina glanced one more time at the sheet’s list and then back to the upper-class student. “His class won’t be easy, and he’s pretty scary, but you’ll learn a lot if you keep up.”

“Does everyone here like talking in riddles? You’re now the third person I think who has told me everything will make sense tomorrow. I didn’t think school worked like that.”

Amelia chuckled, plopping down on her bed and smiling more naturally this time. “It’s so we don’t spoil you before your time here even begins, I suppose. The classes aren’t always easy… even when I was a first year.” She trailed off thoughtfully, humming for a second. Aina watched her from the corner of her eye as she tried to sort the assorted papers on her bed into some kind of order.

“I am looking forward to having you as a roommate though.” Hearing the fondness in the other girls voice brought a feeling of warmth to her chest, which she tried to weasel through.

“You just met me, Amelia. I could snore or something and you might try to smother me with a pillow during midterms,” Aina smiled, small and somewhat careful. It definitely felt new, becoming something like friends so quickly. But Amelia made it so easy and, well, they’d be living together so they might as well be friends too. Right?

“Pff, right. I’m pretty sure I’ll actually be calming you down before a test. All first years panic – including me.” Humor brightened the taller girl’s warm eyes, a hint of deviousness in them. “Just you wait, we’ll both be up in the early hours and I’ll be saying that I told you so.”

“Uh huh.” Who knew? It could happen, she supposed.

“Come on girl, you need some sleep. I still can’t believe you found your Buddy on your first day!” Amelia swung her legs up onto her bed with a mock whine, idly wiggling her toes. Aina rolled her eyes, setting the papers on her trunk for in the morning – if she remembered.

“No more Buddy talk, not unless you’re going to tell me what it all means. I’m serious.” She glanced at her roommate when she heard the older girl giggle.

“Tomorrow, you’ll see.”

“Amelia, I swear I’ll do something to get you back for that.”

Eventually, their laughter settled down into sleep.


	55. Winter Holiday - Reece & Azusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rewriting of the Winter Holiday event for Azusa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially a gift to Jinx (gorecorset), because we're both tired of the jealousy trope.

“Are you going home to Hinomoto for the holiday?” She can’t quite keep the curiosity out of her voice, even if the catalyst behind the question was the earlier conversation she’d had with Amelia before the chipper girl left for home. The most she knows about Hinomoto was what her Buddy had said in the early days of their partnership, now relationship. Along with his dislike of crowds, obnoxious things and getting up in the mornings, Azusa kept notoriously tight lips when it came to his homeland.

“Why would I do that? The trip would take too long and be a hassle.” Long fingers brush several nonexistent, to her eyes at least, specks of dust or lint from his shoulder - like he wants to be done with the conversation already.

He probably does.

There are times she’s really amused by his gruff answers, as if he hopes the less he says will discourage her from asking anything else.

“But wouldn’t you rather be home for the holidays?” Tilting her head allowed her a better look at his face, or rather, the eye roll he responded with.

“Hinomoto doesn’t do much for the holidays, not like this country.” He tracked the fall of several leaves, seemingly lost in thought as they continued their walk to class. “We don’t put lights on trees, throw parties or stuff ourselves like people here do.”

“Hey!” Her protest went ignored, unless she imagined the brief upturn of his lips.

“For the most part we simply gather the family at New Year’s and clean afterwards.” He finished with a shrug, shoes clacking just a little more loudly as they reached the courtyard. Reece found herself pausing, falling half a step behind as she considered this new revelation.

“You clean? That’s all?” She lengthened her stride, trying to catch up. Their arms brushed as she did, the sleeves of their catching on one another for a moment. He didn’t look at her, but she didn’t mind. “Why?”

Finally, his head turned and he had one brow raised a little as he considered her. “What’s wrong with starting the New Year fresh and clean?” He faced forward again with a shrug, cloak rustling with the movement. “If I feel ambitious, I may do it over break. Otherwise, I have no plans.”

She faced the school building, turning his words over in her head. When he spoke again, it caught her off guard, but she didn’t jump near as bad as she had months before. “What about you? Not going home either?”

Reece shook her head, switching hands to hold her bag with. “Nah. I don’t want my neighbors to feel obligated to stay with me when they could be with their family. I don’t feel comfortable being a bother like that.”

Her tiny shrug almost mirrored his own, but her shoulders were too slim.

“Once again, your sickening concern for others makes me want to vomit.” He drawled, turning slowly towards the stairs that led to his class. Reece let herself roll her eyes at him, confident that he saw and was pleased when he tossed a scowl her way.

“Uh huh. At least I won’t be lonely, not with you around Sir Grumps A Lot.” She turned for the hall, muffling a snicker when he called after her, something to the effect of ‘drop that stupid nickname’. In return she waved a hand over her shoulder, bracing herself for another day of Practical Magic.

The last before, at least.

-

“Hey! Reece, wait up!” The voice brought her up short, cloak swirling ticklishly around her ankles as she suddenly stopped and oriented herself to face the unfamiliar speaker. A boy, nearly as tall as Yukiya, closed the distance between them with a couple of long strides. He stopped just short of where she stood. His cheeks were pink, like he’d been running and his short brown hair was a little tousled.

He looked vaguely familiar, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember his name. Regardless, she worked up a smile as he caught his breath and straightened up. “Yes? Did you need something?”

“Actually I was wondering if you’d heard about the party tomorrow. Are you going?” He looked excited, eyes bright as he waited for her answer. Part of her had an idea of where this was going, but she nodded anyway.

“I heard from my roommate, yeah. It sounds fun, so I might be going.” Alone, maybe not, depending on Azusa’s answer - even though she had a pretty good idea of what it would be. But it beat sitting in the dorm, so she’d intended to at least try and make an appearance. Perhaps even grab a bite before going to find her wallflower Buddy.

“Would you consider going with me? If nobody’s asked you yet, that is.” He covered his tracks pretty quick, she thought, pleased that he made the attempt at being considerate. Still, he looked nearly ready to bounce on his heels as if he were certain she would agree.

She still couldn’t remember his name, and that made her feel bad.

Footsteps stopped her from answering immediately, the familiar tread making her ears perk even before she turned her head. The other boy turned as well, going just a little still at the sight of Azusa.

It was funny, the sort of impression her Buddy could make - whether he was conscious of it or not. Blue eyes flicked between them, expression arranged neutrally. She knew he was curious by the subtle tilt of his head and the fact that he snuck a second glance at the other boy’s uniform as if to confirm what year he was.

“Hey Azusa. I was just about to head up to meet you.” A smile spread over her face, all on its own. He returned it with a small quirk of his lips, eyes on her for a second longer than necessary before they went back to her classmate.

She was at least eighty-five percent sure they’d shared a class together at some point. Either the Headmaster’s Magical Creatures Ecology lectures or Professor Merkulova’s Potions and Pharmaceuticals.

“It’s fine.” He dismissed her almost apology, smiling faintly at the other boy. “Is everything alright? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Apparently, the other guy took it as a sign to focus on her again. His expression cleared considerably as he did so and she found herself amused that he discounted Azusa so easily. “It’s okay. I was just asking Reece if she’d go with me to the party tomorrow t celebrate the holidays.”

Azusa’s smile didn’t falter, even hearing that. Rather, it faded into a look of consideration and his eyes went to her once again.

Times like this and half of her wished to be able to read his mind. The other half was glad she couldn’t, but that belonged to things they were working on.

“I see.” He said, as if testing out the words. “I don’t mean to push, but do you have an answer for him, Reece?”

Both men were looking at her now and it was mildly uncomfortable.

She had to swallow once in order to make sure she could talk, thumb brushing over the handle of her bag. “I can’t. I am sorry,” she added, seeing the slow emergence of a crestfallen look on her classmate’s face, “but I’d been planning to ask Azusa if he would go with me. You know, break the usual tradition and all that.” She offered a smile, partly relieved when the other boy slowly returned it.

“Okay. Uh, I… I hope you have a good time.” Dipping his head, the boy turned and headed down the stairs - not glancing at Azusa even as he passed by the Onmyoji. For her part, she felt a little bad.

“When were you going to ask me?” Blue eyes zeroed in on her again and she resisted the urge to roll her brown ones.

“After class, but he showed up first.” Shrugging, Reece tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. “I figured if you said no, and that you probably would, I could try and bribe you first.” She heard him step closer, shoes clacking softly against the stone floor and looked up. He was within easy touching distance now, thin brows quirked and mouth half-smiling.

“Bribe me? And how were you going to do that?” His voice dipped, lower now than it had been moments before. He didn’t sound angry, at least.

Shifting her weight to one leg, she considered teasing some more.

“Well, I know that you actually do like my cooking when I figure out how to make stuff from your home.” His expression soured a bit at that and he drew away slightly, which was both amusing and a little disappointing. “So I thought I’d offer to make that soup you like so much, if the dorm mother lets me use the kitchen. Then I’d offer to help you clean for New Year’s.” She smiled at the last bit, partly because Azusa now looked as though he’d rather take another class with Prefect Klaus than let her anywhere near his things.

“Tempting as that is, I think I’ll pass.” Still looking mildly affronted, Azusa glanced off to the side as if he were pondering something before looking back at her. “And if I still refused?” A challenging look entered his eyes, the beginnings of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I’d still come to spend time with you. That’s really what I want to do anyway.” Heat rose in her cheeks and she found herself unable to directly meet his eye. The worn, somewhat smooth surface of the stairs looked suddenly interesting. “And, you know, get you out of your room.”

“How sweet of you.” Warm fingers touched her cheek, turning her head to face him. If anything, she thought he looked amused. At her expense. With her in general, perhaps.

“Hey - “

“I want to kiss you.” He cut her off, the faintest bit of pink coloring his cheeks. The fingers against her skin stayed where they were, even though she thought he might want to slide them through her hair like he’d done before.

“Here?” The word stuck in her throat, bag suddenly feeling a pound or so heavier in her hand.

Any hope she might have had that the reminder might serve to turn him off the the idea was dashed when he smirked, trailing the pad of his thumb over the rise of her cheek. It sent a wave of warmth through her skin, making her stomach flutter.

“Yes.” He sounded absolutely certain. That didn’t spell good things for her knees, she was sure.

“Okay.” She thought about dropping her bag, but the thought fled her brain an instant later. His lips touched hers, soft at first until she pressed back. He moved, chest touching hers and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to step back or not, meeting him kiss for kiss. As she thought they might, his fingers slipped in her hair, short nails lightly scraping her scalp and creating tiny shocks of pleasure from the touch.

She felt the brush of his tongue against her lips and pulled back a little, unsure when her free hand had fisted the fabric of his shirt. “Hey-’ another kiss cut her off, without tongue this time. The hand in her hair was now at the back of her head, drawing her in and she followed the nudge until she could feel the shape of his pendant pressing against her front.

“I’ll take you to the stupid party.” He murmured against her lips, pads of his fingers rubbing small circles against the base of her skull. It was completely unfair – he knew that was a quick and easy way to melt any tension she had. She hummed in response, thumb brushing over one of the buttons of his shirt. Waited for the other half of the sentence. It cane after he kissed her again, deep enough that it didn’t take a second thought to confirm that her knees were definitely weakening. “But I expect my present afterwards. Be ready for that.”

“Sure. Okay.” Her head felt fuzzy, the look he was giving her not helping in the least. She tapped his chest once with a finger, ignoring his scowl. Her head cleared a little when she took a slow breath, at least. “C'mon. As much as I like you kissing me silly, I don’t feel like getting yelled at by the P.D.A. Police.”

He snorted, but slowly let her go and stood back. His face was flushed and his eyes were dark, but otherwise he looked fine. She wondered what could be said of her, self-consciously attempting to straighten her collar, her hair.

-

The party looked great, as she’d expected. The remaining students were dressed in bright, festive colors and clustered in groups when they weren’t dancing. She thought she spied Professor Merkulova in a suit that was different from his usual, but didn’t get the chance to investigate. She did see Luca and Arum twirling gracefully across the dance floor. They looked great together – it almost made her wish that she could move her two left feet half as well as that.

Azusa took up a position by a wall and watched the goings on. When she brought him a plate he sampled from it but didn’t eat much. He did have a glass of what she thought was champagne though, and she’d done her best not to laugh at the face he’d made at the bubbly drink.

Her own hadn’t been much better, but she’d never had the chance to develop a taste for it.

“I’m bored.’ His voice cut through her thoughts, the deadpan tone making her laugh before she could help it. He shot her a look, clearly unamused. “What?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” She admitted, gladly setting down her glass. It was a fun party – the atmosphere and the food were great, and she’d been able to talk to Mami and Anima for a while. Maybe if she’d been able ot dance she might have entertained the idea, but she doubted that she or Azusa could do much more than bumble across the dance floor.

“If you want to go that’s fine.” Smiling up at him, she took a second to appreciate the way the ballroom’s light made him look.

He raised a brow at that, but drained the scant amount of fluid left in his glass and set it aside. Taking her hand, Azusa lead her towards the door with a surprising amount of quickness in his stride. She did her best to keep up, barely remembering to throw a wave back towards her friends.

Anima sent her a raised brow from her spot by Elias, her expression almost sly as she waited for Klaus to return.

She’d have to get her back for that later.

“Where are we g-” Once outside, she’d expected Azusa to slow down, at least a little, not come to an almost full stop and turn around on her. Reece stumbled, hand suddenly empty and cold, brain just processing that before his hands were at her face. His skin was warm from the ballroom and he smelled like something sweet and spicy when he leaned to her level and kissed her.

In the back of her mind, alarms went off but he pulled back a moment late,r what might have been the briefest apology she’d ever heard leaving his mouth before he kissed her forehead instead. The grip he had on her face was firm, but not nearly enough to hurt, lips almost hot against her brow. She inhaled, slow and steady, pushing out the rushing feeling that tried to claim her senses and fill her stomach with nausea.

“Well that was sudden.” Was about the best she could manage, slowly bringing her hands up to touch his. The backs of his palms were smooth to the touch, fine hairs tickling her skin. She thought, for a second, that he might be shaking. Or maybe that was her. It was probably her. “I bet you get tired of that. Not being able to kiss me all the time when you want to.” She tried to laugh, even a little bit, but it came out forced and awkward instead.

“I’ll wait.” His lips moved over her skin as he spoke, the feeling of the words oddly… endearing? Touching? Something like that. Something that made her nerves go to jelly for different, better reasons.

“Thank you.” She gave his hands a squeeze, mostly to let him know that she was okay, before lifting her eyes to his. The heat in them had cooled somewhat, but it didn’t make her feel like he was picking her apart. “So, you had a plan in mind?”

Humor lightened his expression and the pads of his fingers rubbed a gentle circle against her skin. “I want my present.”

“Present?” She blinked, felt her brow furrow in time with her confusion. “You never told me what you wanted, so I didn’t bring anything… If it’s that dinner I promised it’s kinda late to start on that.”

“That’s for tomorrow.” He said, lips curling into a familiar look. His tone had become devious, but the slow massage against her scalp and the fact that he hadn’t tried anything yet made her relax a little. “My present is you, of course. Do I need to spell it out further, in detail, for you to get it in that thick skull?” His thumbs pressed lightly against her temples, slowly brushing along the skin and back into her hair. He’d told her once that the area was a major stress site, sensitive enough to be able to relieve headaches if massaged gently enough.

“You really aren’t kidding, are you?” Eyes a little round, she felt her cheeks burn. No doubt he could feel it, the smug jerk.

His eyes scanned her face, smirk fading somewhat as he did. Slowly, his hands lowered, taking hers with them, until his fingers curled around her shoulders. Light. Almost gentle. “It can be put off until the New Year if you’d prefer. That’s the most I can faithfully promise.”

The sincerity in those words, the seriousness of his expression, made her stomach flip. In a good way.

Still she raised a hand to lightly tap his forehead with one knuckle, chuckling as he pulled back to avoid a doubletap. “Not sure I can get into the mood while we’re cleaning, to be honest.” His eyes rolled, features losing some of their tension at the jibe and she hooked her finger into his collar before he could say anything. Tugging until he finally leaned closer, she gave his cheek a light peck.

“If you’d let me finish, you might hear something you’d like.”

Azusa snorted, but kept his pretty mouth shut, one brow creeping up towards his flyaway bangs.

“I was going to say that we could go to my room, since my roommate’s gone for break. And Randy won’t walk in on us there and kill the mood.” The tip of her nail touched his chest, beneath the collar of his shirt and she was pleased to watch his reaction.

Eyes now lit up with that devious spark again, he smiled. “Finally, something we can agree on.”


	56. Bridging the Gap - Aina & Azusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that things are calmer, Aina wants to do something nice.
> 
> One down, one to go.
> 
> Spoilers for Joel’s route.

“You want to what?” For the first time since she’d known him, Azusa looks sincerely confused. His brows are furrowed, higher up on his forehead than usual in admittance to his perplexed state. Aina remained as she was, leaning forward in her stolen seat across from him, sunlight from the window spilling in and providing more than enough light in their niche to study by. She didn’t recognize the diagrams in the textbook beside his homework - the lines, symbols and whorls fascinating to look at but ultimately beyond her current level of comprehension.

Some of the letters were odd too, strokes and lines that made blocky or even graceful-looking symbols that were arranged vertically rather than horizontally. She’d have to lean in further to get a better look, but that would bring her out of her seat and into his personal space - they weren’t familiar enough for that and it seemed too rude for what amounted to their second real conversation. She wasn’t sure if the brief exchange after he and Randy had saved her and Joel counted, since they’d all been coming down from an adrenaline rush from the werewolves’ attack.

Pulling her eyes away from his homework, she mustered the courage to quirk a half-smile at him and his disbelieving stare. “I want to do something for you, since you saved me and Joel. Randy’s kinda easy, he’s all about candy and experiments with magic - but I don’t know a thing about you except that you come from Hinomoto and you’re his roommate.”

“I’ve said it before, you don’t have to do anything.” She would have sworn that he rolled his eyes just a little as he went back to his homework, pen scratching softly as he wrote the answer to… whatever it was. “Besides, things are calming down and the two of you already thanked us. Isn’t that enough?” He shot her a glance, brows once more even and smooth. Still, it felt like he was faintly mocking her insistence and she wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“I don’t know if you’re being humble or just difficult.” Shifting her position, she leaned her weight on one arm and cupped her chin in a hand as she watched him. This time his eyes did roll enough for her to catch it, but he didn’t say anything else for a couple of minutes. She took the time to glance away, surveying what she could see of the rest of the library.

It was quiet, but she was used to that. People were slowly starting to trickle back to the Academy now that it was safe and classes were due to begin next week. Yukiya had sent her a note that morning, carefully written in a seemingly shaky hand, that he wouldn’t be able to meet up for Basic Training because he was sick. She’d offered to ask the dorm father if she could bring him something, but no response had come.

It’d really been boredom that had led her to the library, Joel being busy with a meeting in the Headmaster’s office - supposedly to learn about his newfound duties as a Guardian to the Fairy Road. He’d mentioned that he would be busy afterward, needing to practice his spellsinging to get used to it again. She thought there’d been the offer, unspoken and tentative, that she could stay with him as he practiced but she wasn’t sure about taking him up on it.

There were still things she needed to think about, come to terms with.

Whether or not she could trust him as she had before being one of them.

“What did you give Randy, or do you just have the idea in mind?” Azusa’s voice severed the train of thought and brought her back to the present. When she glanced at him, his eyes were still on his work, right hand still writing out the answers in his notebook, but the air around him had a tinge of expectation. He was wanting for her to answer.

“What? Change your mind?” Smiling, Aina let herself lean back into the seat as far as it would go, anyway. Absently, she moved her hand in little circles to alleviate the tension in her wrist from supporting her head, felt her back start to relax now that she was relatively upright.

“No. Simply curious, since you described him as ‘easy’.” His lips twitched, almost unbidden, she thought. But whatever smile he might have reigned in disappeared as he continued to speak, voice low and speculative. “Admittedly the path of least resistance does point towards candy and childish things when thinking of him.”

She debated with herself for a moment when he glanced at her, his hand slowly setting down the pen he’d been using, like he wanted to show his interest by giving her his full attention. Or maybe he was just bored of writing, it was hard to say. Well, it wasn’t like he didn’t know that she and Joel had been helping a fairy during the crisis - and there didn’t seem to be any point in lying.

“I just gave him a pouch of fairy dust, since he never got the chance to ask Eress all his questions.” Saying it out loud, she felt silly. It was true, Randy had been immensely interested in Eress and the goings-on with the fairies, he’d also been the reason she had even been able to follow Joel when he’d decided to face the King of Fairies himself. Now, it seemed like a half-baked kind of ‘thank you’ when she remembered all that the curly haired wizard had done for her.

“Fairy dust? You actually trusted him with that?” She blinked as Azusa’s expression shifted towards exasperation, even though his voice didn’t raise at all. He closed his eyes with a sigh, lifting his off-hand to rub gently at his forehead.

Guilt and uncertainty slowly rolled through her stomach, making the back of her throat taste sour. “Did I do something wrong..?”

Was fairy dust illegal? Could it be harmful? Would they get into trouble if someone found out Randy had it?

She hadn’t really thought about it when she’d carefully drawn it out of her clothes with magic after discovering she and Joel were covered in the iridescent, shimmering dust from their time in the Fairy world. It had seemed harmless enough at the time, most of it from being near the King of Fairies or in the Fairy Garden when Joel was restoring it to health.

“No, not particularly.” He shot her a look from under his hand, more sardonic than actually upset. “He’ll just be insufferable for weeks with that at his disposal. No telling what all it might get into, either.” That last part was a grumble, as though Azusa could well imagine a fine layer of the dust creeping into nooks and crannies just to irritate him.

She snorted, laughter tickling the back of her mouth. It couldn’t be helped, because he just looked so put-upon in that moment - like he was making a list of all the things he knew to bug his roommate about later.

 _They must really be close friends_ , she thought, _for him to look like that._

“Fine. I’ll accept something as an apology for the ridiculousness he’s about to put me through. Him and the furball.” Lifting his gaze and lowering his hand, Azusa pinned her with a look. The seriousness of it was somewhat ruined when one corner of his mouth twitched upward, slowly becoming a smirk. “But I doubt you can guess what I like.”

“H-hey, that’s not fair!” Forgetting to lower her voice, she leaned forward again, one hand grasping the arm of her chair. “How am I supposed to do something for you if I don’t even know what you like or hate?”

“That isn’t really my problem, now is it?” Looking smug, he folded one leg over the other, taking care not to bag a foot or shin against the table.

She narrowed her eyes at him, tongue lightly pressing against the inside of her cheek in her irritation. The glare didn’t faze him in the least, not that she’d thought it would anyway, but the mockingly amused light in his eyes was just too much.

“I’ll fill your room with apples, that’s what I’ll do.” She grumbled, sitting back and folding her arms across her chest. It wasn’t very mature, she knew that, but he was just being enough of a jerk that she didn’t care.

“And how will you get into the dorm, I wonder?” He toyed with the pen, gently turning it between long, beautiful fingers. She felt her cheeks turn a little pink and made herself look away, her mind going to the secret Joel had shown her when they’d snuck into his room. She was definitely keeping that one to herself - and she didn’t mind the notion of using it just to mess with Azusa at least once.

Maybe Randy too.

“None of your business.” Turning the words out with a faint huff, Aina took the chance to briefly look at his bag. At the books and parchment he’d spread out over the table, obviously intending to get ahead on his schoolwork and not at all expecting company. His pen look school-issued, but the ink was of a different kind than she’d seen before.

If she couldn’t think of a regular gift, maybe she’d get him something practical.

“Do you need ink? That’ looks different form the kind everyone else uses.” She extended her hand enough to gesture carefully at his writing, seeing him glance downwards at her statement. He looked thoughtful for a second, fingers slowing in their manipulation of the pen.

“I appreciate the thought. But the method is one we use in Hinomoto, and I don’t think there is a substitute here in Gedonelune that would be useful.” He seemed genuine in the brief moment of gratitude, which made her wonder if she’d surprised him with her question.

“You make your own ink?” He nodded, lips slowly inching upwards in the face of her obvious curiosity. She felt the heat in her cheeks grow a little, but couldn’t help her next question. “How?”

“The short of it is that we grind a stone and mix the powder with water. Some enchant it various reasons, or use different methods to change the color, but that is the simplest explanation.” He shrugged lightly, not so much dismissing the conversation as expressing himself through movement.

“But doesn’t it take a long time to dry that way?” Tilting her head, she tried to imagine what kind of stone was used. How to write without smudging it.

It occurred to her that she’d seen him hold his pen more upright than others she was used to, keeping his hand completely clear of the page. It didn’t seem to work very well with the fountain pens she’d seen, or maybe he’d just adapted the way he wrote.

“Not really. No longer than the ink here does.” Another shrug.

“Well, I’ll come up with something.” Unfolding her arms, she peeked out the window and tried to see if anyone could be spotted in the courtyard. The angle wasn’t that great, and the brightness of the sunlight made her squint.

She thought she heard him snicker, but when she glanced at him his expression hadn’t changed.

“Won’t your boyfriend be upset?” He did raise a brow as he asked, ignoring her confused stare. “Your Buddy. Won’t he get jealous if he finds out you’re giving gifts to other men?”

She blinked. Then blinked again, feeling her face burn at the choice of words.

Filling his room with apples to the point where he couldn’t walk was sounding more and more like a good idea the more she thought about it.

“Th-that’s not.. I’m not giving you _that_ kind of gift!” _Just who did he think he was_ , she wondered, before pushing the thought aside, “Besides… the boyfriend thing is… up in the air right now.” Looking away so she wouldn’t have to see the expression on his face, positive or negative, she gave serious consideration to the notion of heading to the dorm for an early lunch. The expect response never came though, silence stretching on for at least a minute before she peeked at him again.

To her relief, he wasn’t gawping. Just serious, eyes meeting hers for as long as she allowed.

Truthfully, it made her squirm to be looked at directly like that.

“It likely isn’t my business, but if something happened you do have friends.” Was all he said, face carefully neutral.

“Thanks.” Something a bit warm and tight settled in her chest, not entirely uncomfortable. Clearing her throat, she bounced her knee to get rid of some of the jitters in her stomach. “See? You’re being nice again. I just never know with you.” Smiling as she spoke, she dismissed the scoff he gave.

His eyes followed her as she stood, but he didn’t say anything as she made a show of rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll let you get back to your homework. Thanks for humoring me.”

“Just stay out of trouble." The slight grousing tone was back, hardly as strong as before though. Lifting his pen he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward slightly, resuming his work. She envied the easy, fluid way he moved. Making sure not to catch her foot on one of the table’s legs as she passed, Aina ignored the not-so-subtle glares from a cluster of girls seated two tables away, preoccupying herself with the tie holding her hair back.

Maybe, if she could find him and get him to be honest, Luca could give her some pointers on slipping out into the town unnoticed.


	57. Consolation - Joel & Salamander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe asking a temperamental fairy for advice wasn’t the best idea.
> 
> Spoilers for Joel’s route.

He felt the temperature rise as the fairy approached, partly relieved when only bobbing sphere of flame made its appearance rather than the Royal Guard’s true form. Salamander weaved his way towards him, the heat of his flames hardly fazing the beautiful roses of the Fairy Garden. Joel watched the fairy from the corner of his eye, carefully swallowing as the ball of flame came to a stop just a few feet away.

It was hot. Scorching, almost.

But still nothing compared to the inferno he’d felt when Salamander had barred their way to his master, the King.

“You called me here for a reason, I hope.” The fairy’s voice was deep, hovering on the edge of impatience.

“I wanted to talk.” The spellsinger turned, facing the hovering flames in spite of the heat that touched his face. He had to blink a couple of times to moisten his eyes, but said nothing about it. “Will that be a problem?”

Salamander’s flames shifted through colors, red to orange, to yellow and then back. He took that as an indicator of the Royal Guard’s mood, lacking anything like a face to watch for familiar social cues. Some part of his doubted that, even if he were privy to the Guard’s real form, he wouldn’t be able to read his expressions.

“Speak quickly then, if it is important.” It sounded like the fey was grumbling, but the heat which had been making mirages in the air cooled somewhat. Joel wanted to take that as a good sign.

It still left him with the difficulty of where to begin, because if he asked the wrong question it could just as easily make the other angry - having faced such a thing once, Joel preferred never having to do so again. Parting his lips, he took a deep breath - the once cool air now more like a summer’s day at the Academy. Here went everything. “I did something that hurt the girl I care about and I want to make it right. How can I do that?”

Salamander’s flames brightened, in surprise, he assumed, casting shadows that were broken apart by the refraction’s of light caused by the dew on the flowers around them. It made for a slightly eerie effect, reminding him once more that this was not his world and things were not always as they seemed. The fairy didn’t speak right away, which was a little surprising, considering.

“You expect me to provide an answer to such a vague question, based on human trouble’s no less?” It wasn’t quite contempt in the fey’s voice, but close. He had to reign in his immediate response, which wasn’t nearly as scathing as some of the things he’d said to Eress, but probably more than enough to irritate the Elemental Fairy before him.

“Eress said the two of you have fought a lot. I thought you might be able to tell me something.” It wasn’t a lie, just a different part of the truth - though he warily watched as red flames became tinged with pale yellow, the heat swelling for an instant.

“What happens between us is our business, Guardian.” The murmur was dark, firelight twisting into shapes foreign to those Joel was used to. Maybe because they were magic, were part of a fairy’s spirit, but it unnerved him all the same. They quieted after a tense moment, flickering light becoming steadier as the fairy thought.

“The Princess _did_ mention that you were a hopeless case.” Joel tightened his lips at that, squashing the urge to speak with effort. Salamander continued, largely indifferent to his struggle. “But she said that you do care for the girl she calls her best friend.”

Unless he was mistaken, there was wistfulness there. Like Salamander might have mixed feelings sharing that title with a human - as impulsive and trouble-prone as Aina could be, or he simply missed being referred to as Eress’ friend as well as her lover.

His musings broke apart when the other continued.

“Tell me then, and I will give what advice I can.”

Gathering herself up, Joel took a moment to think back. Overall, it had been a long ten years. Whatever he might have suffered in waiting for Aina to come to the Academy, he felt certain that it could hardly compare to learning that the one she thought was her best friend had erased her memory of them. Even though he’d done it out of the best of intentions.

Guilt churned his stomach, but he thought he could sense Salamander’s impatience returning and so he spoke before he lost the Guard’s attention.

“When we were children, actual children,” he narrowed his eyes at the ball of flames, hopefully cutting off any jibe about the age difference between them, “I had to leave the village where Aina lived. She’d lost her parents earlier that year and had nobody else until my father and I came through. That’s how we became friends. I loved her, even then.”

He felt absolute certainty about that - the image of a small, green-haired girl with inquisitive gray eyes flickering through his memory. The memory of her sleeping on the grass her first day at the Academy, face hopelessly peaceful until he’d woken her up.

“When my father had finished his work it was time for us to go. I knew I had to tell her, but I didn’t want to see her cry so - so I learned a spell that could make her forget.” He couldn’t help the lump that’d formed in his throat, the memory close enough now that he didn’t immediately notice how Salamander had gone very still.

“I told her that my father and I were leaving the day of the lantern festival in her village. They float them down the river for the dead end… it was the last chance I had say goodbye. She cried,” he swallowed, gaze unfocusing as he remembered, “and she said that I was a liar for promising to stay when we first met. I didn’t want her to be sad, I still don’t, so I sand the song of forgetting. I erased her memories of me - the good, the bad, all of them, but just the ones of me and my father. She…” he paused, drawing in a shallow breath.

When had it become so hard to do just that, just breathe?

“She didn’t remember until we came through the World of Illusions. The magic there must have broken the spell and now that things are better between our worlds… Aina’s drawn away from me.”

It sounded weak, he sounded weak. Perhaps even miserable.

“As well she should.” The harshness in Salamander’s voice shattered his moment of self-pity, drawing his eyes back up to the hovering flames. He felt them widen, felt the heat now that he was really paying attention.

It wasn’t just hot. It felt like the air around him might _burn_.

“The only thing that might provide some excuse for what you did is the fact that you were hardly more than an infant at the time.” Joel didn’t bother trying to correct the fairy this time, too transfixed by the yellow and white flames which made up Salamander’s body now. “But,” the Guard continued, the snap of burning things in his voice, the crackle of his element, “ _nothing_ will ever absolve you of that selfishness - your blatant _disrespect_ for that girl.”

“It wasn’t disrespect, I -” A burst of heat, sudden and malicious, made him cry out - hurriedly take several steps back from the enraged fey.

“Level your excuses at someone else, _boy_ , because I have neither the patience to deal with them or the desire to.” Even behind his eyelids, he could see the imprint of flames - angry, curling tongues that wanted to render things to ash. Or nothing at all.

He flinched, pressing an arm over his eyes to protect them and waited.

When he didn’t feel his skin searing, or the pain of the fairy coming any closer, Joel slowly opened his eyes and lowered his arm.

The white and yellow flames were gone, now a somber red.

“If you want that girl’s forgiveness, work for it. Perhaps if you are lucky, she will listen to your pleas.” Salamander’s voice had gotten softer, but not out of tenderness. His light dimmed, heat retreating until the air felt almost cool again. “That is all I have to say to you.”

“Got it.” The walls of his throat scraped together as he spoke, making him wince. He could feel it now, the quivering in his knees and hands, surprising himself by being too shaken to care about it.

“I won’t tell the Princess.” Salamander muttered, sphere of flames ululating as he did so. “She would have little problem in flaying you for it.”

“She already knows. Called me an idiot. A blockhead.” He cut himself off there, partly because it was actually painful to speak.

A snort came from the fairy as he bobbed in the air, flames glowing brighter as if in satisfaction.

“And you are. Now, I’m done with this. You’d best think carefully before you come to me for advice again.” With that, Salamander’s body grew smaller, about the size of a saucer, before he sped off - leaving a comet’s tail in his wake.

Joel watched him go, felt his legs give out at last.


	58. And the Moon - Tsukasa Kuze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glimpses of Tsukasa’s life, and after.

He woke at the feeling of the air shifting, at _something_ being changed. Carefully sitting up, he pushed off the blankets piled onto his sleeping area, wondering if his brother had left any for himself as he stood on legs that wobbled only a little. The floor was cool under his feet, light that filtered through into his room still tinged with blue. Rubbing at his eyes, he pushed open the door to his room and shuffled out.

Silence descended from the larger room ahead, the tickle of aura ceasing to tug at his drowsy mind. A second later there were soft footsteps and the figure of his brother filled the hall.

“What are you doing up? Go back to bed.”

His brother sounded quite awake despite the early hour. He didn’t pull back when Azusa came closer, warm hands touching his forehead, the sides of his throat. Obediently he swallowed without being asked to, sleepily pleased for once that it didn’t hurt to do so.

“You’re awake nii-san.” He pointed out, blinking up at the scowl that spread over his sibling’s face. Belatedly he recognized the yukata Azusa was wearing, similar to the one he’d seen a portrait of their father wearing.

The unmistakable wear of an Onmyoji in training.

“You’re leaving? Now?” Feeling more awake than a moment before, he turned his head back up to look at his brother’s face. Something passed over his expression, maybe something like guilt, but it was put aside as Azusa started to brush back his hair as if to distract himself.

“I have to, Tsukasa. It’s too early for you to be up. I already told the shikigami what it needs to do so you won’t have to worry about anything today.” Deft fingers separated parts of his hair, beginning to braid them as the older youth did with his own hair in the morning. He stood still for it, pressing his lips together tightly so that he wouldn’t whine.

Several questions rose in the back of his mind and he picked the one that sounded the least childish. “What are you learning today, nii-san?” Focusing his eyes on the weave of his brother’s yukata made it a little easier – it wasn’t that he was uninterested just… his brother often had to be gone.

“Praying.” Azusa muttered distractedly, finishing one braid and gently turning his head so he could start the other. “From there I’ll be learning to seal the energies of a lesser magical beast. If I do well enough.” The last part sounded almost like a reprimand to himself, like he hadn’t been meant to hear it.

He glanced at what he could see of his sibling’s face from this angle, perking up the tone of his voice in the hopes it would help. “You will. I know you can do it.”

One blue eye glanced at him, briefly and faintly narrowed as if in discomfort, then his brother focused on his messy hair again.

“If you’re trying to make me forget to give you your medicine it isn’t working.” The words, faintly teasing, sounded tight as they left his brother’s mouth. He frowned at that, unsure if he’d actually helped his sibling at all.

“There. All done.” Azusa tucked an errant lock of hair behind his ear before stepping back, looking him over with a critical eye. He pushed down the urge to reach up and fuss with the braids, feel them against his fingers and muss them just enough to match his brother’s. “I suppose it’ll do, since I doubt you’ll listen to me and go back to sleep.” A sharp glance cut off the protest he’d had ready and he quieted, shifting his weight. He couldn’t remember when Azusa had gotten so good at seeing through his assurances that he’d be fine, but part of him disliked it.

“I can study, at least.” He offered, glancing up in time to catch the faint roll of his brother’s eyes.

“I can’t stop you, not today anyway.” Azusa grumbled, turning to head for the kitchen. He followed, trying to stretch out his legs to match the older boy’s stride. “But don’t exert yourself too much. I don’t want you to get the cough back or hurt yourself with a spell.”

He helped with the cooking, even though he knew Azusa would prefer him to just sit and stay out of the way.

“I’ll be careful. It will help if I learn as much as I can so I can help you, after all.” He shot his brother a smile, yelping softly when Azusa pushed him lightly. Teetering, he fumbled to regain his balance and glared at the taller boy who kept working without so much as batting an eye.

“Don’t rush. You have to get better first.” The seriousness was back, the moment of playfulness gone.

“You rush.” It slipped out before he could stop it, soft and a little said. Azusa went still at the counter and he wasn’t sure if the tremble in his sibling’s hands was real or his imagination. He tried not to duck his head, not wanting to look like a child caught doing something wrong but his gaze lowered all the same. “You’re only six years older than me, nii-san. You’re… you’re already doing everything. Already an apprentice… The youngest.”

“I’m doing what I have to, Tsukasa.” There was an edge in Azusa’s voice, but it wasn’t cold. “Just don’t worry about it and get better. That’s what you can do for me.”

The older boy met his eye then, features composed and calm, looking very much like the man in the portrait that rested in the family shrine. He hesitated, but nodded. It didn’t seem that he could do much else, at the moment.

They ate and he watched his brother depart, top of his head losing the warmth from the affectionate pat Azusa had left him with. Once he was out of sight he closed the door, eyeing the empty room before him. The shikigami wouldn’t activate unless he needed it, or it was summoned by whatever schedule his brother had left it with. Setting his shoulders, he went to find what he needed.

-

He sat up, feeling the burn in his lungs as he tried to repress the urge to cough. His chest tightened, an ache building in his throat as he pressed his hands to his mouth to muffle the incoming sounds. A sharp inhale undid his fragile control, sparking the urge to start coughing and his body followed suit before he could resist again. His shoulders shook as he went along with his body’s natural response, coughing fit wracking his upper body as it stretched on longer than previous fits had before.

A churning feeling stirred in his stomach as the area tensed every time his expelled another cough, worrying him that the next one might taste like bile, or worse. He gulped in a breath, wincing at the scratchy feeling in his throat and strained his ears to listen. There was no sound of footsteps heading for his room, no subtle shift of magic that could summon a shikigami – which meant he hadn’t woken his brother.

Glancing out the window, he corrected himself. The light was too golden, too bright. Azusa would have already left, long before it could be this late.

How long had he been sleeping?

He inhaled slowly, pressing a hand to his chest and focused inward. There was no unsettling rattle in his lungs, not this time, but it hurt if he breathed in too deeply. His skin felt warm, just a little too warm. It would be disappointing if his fever hadn’t broken yet, but he felt better than before.

He just needed to focus on that, rather than the alternative.

Once his breath evened out and he felt sure that he could move without getting dizzy he got up, heading for the drawers in the corner of his room. It opened smoothly at a touch, he pushed aside several layers of clothes before his fingers touched the cool ring of metal. Pulling it out carefully, he brought it back to his futon and sat, drawing the blankets up over his knees.

In the sunlight the object in his hands looked better than he’d thought – steel for strength, the clear quart crystal for balance. Within, a butterfly of black and gold that appeared caught mid-flight. Dimly, he could sense the magic he’d stored within patiently waiting. Staring at it for a moment, he allowed himself a small flicker of pride.

This way, if something happened, he could still watch over his brother. Help him.

Taking a slow breath, he traced a character over the pendant, satisfied when he sensed the magic stored inside respond. Focus narrowing to a single point, the object in his hands, he carefully started the process anew. The butterfly within the crystal shimmered as it absorbed his magic, a part of his soul. Its wings seemed to want to flap, the antennae to move and twitch.

It felt a bit like pouring out a part of himself, carefully tying this part of his essence to the world. Unlike a shikigami, it would have only certain recollections to draw on – more a thing of spirit and power than the ‘him’ bound by flesh and bone.

It was more difficult to catch the sense of time – seconds, minutes, hours, days – the thinness of reality and the possibilities that lay beyond it. The ‘him’ sitting in bed, channeling magic and spirit into a receptor of metal and crystal; another him walking alongside his brother through town, another blinking at the reflection in the mirror – a boy with blue hair that paled towards the ends, a boy who was and was not himself.

_The ‘him’ that was not him, fluttering black and gold wings over the prone form of someone… he knows them, will know them, he should –_

He wasn’t aware of when he’d released the pendant, feeling the burn in his chest again but this time followed by something else – a pounding at his temples, something hot and sour in his throat, a trickle of warmth from his nose. The sight of his room settled back into place around him, solid and familiar, unlike what he had glimpsed – whatever that had been. The sound of footsteps was the only warning he had, he used it to shove the pendant under the blankets gathered around him and attempted to wipe at his nose, his bedroom door opening in a rush.

His brother’s face was angled towards him, but there was no accompanying presence – the lack of it assuring him that it was a shikigami rather than the real thing.

“What happened?” It snapped, tone the sort his brother used when he felt worried and wanted to hide it.

“I just felt too warm, that’s all.” Blinking several times to clear his head, he swallowed in the hope it would help ease the taste of sick in his mouth. It didn’t. “May I have some water?”

The shikigami turned away, disappearing briefly and returning with a full glass of water in its hand. He took it and tried not to drink too fast, relieved when the ache in his muscles subsided. The clone of his brother didn’t speak until he’d finished, lips quirking faintly at the sigh he gave.

“I sensed your magic. What exactly were you trying to do?” He felt it look him over, made himself remain still as it raised a hand to take his temperature. The contrast between them in that regard wasn’t too bad, or so he thought. It was possible that he was wrong by the way the shikigami frowned, checking again just to be sure.

“What is it?” Watching its face, the mimicry of his brother’s face draw up in worry set a stone rolling through his stomach. The pounding at his temples returned for a moment and he closed his eyes, slowly breathing in.

“You said you were too warm but you’re freezing.” It muttered, pushing back wayward strands of blue hair as it considered his face. He stared back, unsure of what to say, to think. That seemed to be enough, or maybe the shikigami saw something that convinced it because it pulled back, moving to stand. “I’m going to send a kotofuma to your brother. He should be here soon, so lie back.”

“No!” He tried to get up, stumbled as pins and needles ran down one leg but steadied himself before the shikigami could do it. “He’s busy enough – you can’t call him back when he’s at the ceremony.”

The shikigami’s expression perfectly conveyed just what it thought about his argument.

He knew that if it send the kotofuma Azusa would come home, regardless of any expectations put upon him as a newly accepted Onmyoji. He’d claim it had been nothing but a bother anyway, too many people and say for him not to worry about it.

But it would open the door for some to doubt his brother’s dedication, if he could not complete the induction without interruption then how could one trust him to do his job correctly?

“I’m fine.” He said it firmly, forcing himself to stand straight. His knees still shook a little, but his head was no longer hurting and the foul taste in his mouth was gone. “I will be. Don’t contact him – or at least not yet.” He amended, cutting off the shikigami’s protest.

For all it looked identical to his sibling, it lacked a portion of Azusa’s stubbornness.

And if it came down to it, he would dismantle it himself.

“You are as impossible as he is.” The shikigami grumbled, closing its eyes and sighing. It seemed content to ignore his hopeful stare, directing its gaze elsewhere in thought. He waited, fingers itching to do something – to curl into fists, to fidget with his yukata, anything.

“I’m going to make lunch. Eat and study a little if that will get rid of that restless energy of yours. But after that,” it turned back to him, face set and tone stern, “you sleep. Or I will tell him, regardless of what you say.”

“Agreed.” Relief welled up in his chest, sharp and sweet, and he smiled in spite of the shikigami’s scoff.

It left, feet softly padding over the floor and he waited until the sounds of it moving around the kitchen started up before he turned to his futon. Lifting the blankets, he gently lifted the pendant and studied it. It was easier to sense the magic he’d sealed within it, the feeling of it stronger than he’d thought.

It would explain the tiredness creeping into his limbs. How long had he been channeling it, to be so fatigued?

He pushed the thought aside and moved to set it back in its hiding place. Setting his mind to getting dressed, he thought it would at least make an acceptable gift to his brother once Azusa came home.

-

“Are you sure it will alright for me to see him?” Randy’s voice carried softly in the hall, softer than he would have expected considering the wizard’s apparent brashness. His guest kept glancing around, eyes resting on an object for one instant before darting to another as though he couldn’t get enough of looking at everything. At the pink-haired foreigner’s heels was the strange creature he called Taffy, his familiar.

He was pleased that the furball had thus far been quiet, though the full focus of its direct stare was somewhat… unsettling.

“Yes. He’s been wanting to meet you since he learned you would be staying.” He led Randy towards Tsukasa’s room, pausing to listen for any sounds of coughing or labored breathing. His guest seemed to pick up on his tension because the smile that had been on Randy’s face slowly disappeared, the cheerful man becoming serious.

Sliding open Tsukasa’s door, he was surprised to find his little brother sitting up – Tsukasa’s head turning towards the sound and a similar look of surprise taking over his flushed face. The younger boy’s eyes moved between him and Randy slowly, dropping once when the furball pushed his way forward to peer curiously around his master’s legs.

“I didn’t think you would be back already – hello there.” In spite of the rasp in his voice, his little brother smiled and extended a hand to Randy’s familiar. As the bear waddled forward Tsukasa seemed to forget all about the scroll he’d been reading, turning instead to give Taffy his full attention.

It was a little ridiculous, but very like his sibling.

“It didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would.” He responded, stepping in and idly ushering Randy in as well. With his brother preoccupied with the furball he took the chance to check his temperature, ignoring the soft grunt of protest as he did.

“Don’t pull away.” He chided, pulling Tsukasa back up by his collar and ignoring Randy’s quiet chuckle. Tsukasa narrowed his eyes a little, but the look was ineffective considering how bleary he looked. “Our guest is Randy March and his familiar. I don’t suggest trying to feed the furball, he doesn’t have a stomach.”

Taffy’s expression crumpled, tears somehow beading at the edge of his button eyes as he protested being referred to as a furball. His brother took that opportunity to pick him up and settle the bear on his knee, smiling dopily as he bounced the little creature.

“Don’t listen to nii-san, he’s not as mean as he likes to pretend.” Tsukasa patted the top of the bear’s head, effectively stemming the whining and tears the creature was intent on producing. Then he turned to look at Randy, pausing to swallow. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine.” At some point Randy had moved, either made a circuit of the room or simply gone to his brother’s free side and crouched down. Pink-gold eyes curved as he smiled, softer than he remembered the man being capable of. “I hope we can be friends while I’m here, if you feel up to it.”

Pulling back, he watched his brother consider their guest for a moment – how he glanced discreetly at Randy’s curly, vibrant hair and eyed the jeweled, decorated stick, wand, which poked out of his pocket.

“Are you an Onmyoji?” His sibling’s thin brows drew together like he was trying to puzzle something out, something Azusa could remember himself doing when he’d first sensed Randy’s magic.

Surprise brightened the wizard’s expression for a moment before it smoothed out into a kind of quiet humor. “Sort of. In my country people with magic are called wizards. Wizardesses if they’re girls. Some people prefer the term ‘magician’ though, so it can depend on where you go. We use wands to cast our magic,” he drew out the object which had held his sibling’s attention, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched Tsukasa examine it. “I hear that’s very different from the sort of magic you use here in Hinomoto.”

Tsukasa nodded, unconsciously toying with the tufts of fur at the top of Taffy’s head.

It seemed as good a time as any, so he cleared his throat.

“Do you feel up to having dinner, Tsukasa?” He hadn’t felt any warmer than he had that morning, but the fact that the fever was persisting was… concerning.

“I do. I can help if – “

“No.” He cut him off, lightly smoothing down errant strands of hair once he’d tapped his brother’s forehead. “You’ll be doing something more important. Keeping that,” lowering his gaze, he stared pointedly at the furball until it scrunched self-consciously against his brother’s side, “out of the kitchen.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Taffy isn’t any trouble.”

He winced, partly because Randy’s protest was far too loud and also because they’d spoken almost in sync. Watching as the two of them traded glances, he felt that a headache might be incoming. Standing, he held one of Tsukasa’s arms as his brother did the same.

“Out with you.” Gently, he pushed his brother in the direction of the door, following once he was sure Tsukasa could manage on his own.

“He looks like you.” Randy’s voice caught him off guard, a soft look in his eyes that he wasn’t sure how to place.

“He is my brother.” He repressed a smirk at the flat look the foreign wizard shot him, closing the door to his brother’s room once the man had stepped out.

“And it’s just the two of you here, in this big house?” It sounded like concern in his tone, “No one else?”

“If I leave I have at least two shikigami that stay with him.” He answered, heading for the kitchen. He spied the furball amusing itself and Tsukasa by telling some kind of story, the familiar’s words blurring together as it grew more and more animated.

“Oh.” Was the only response, shortly followed by a noise of surprise when he barred the man from entering the kitchen. The confusion only lasted a second, but it was comical. “Wha – I could help, you know.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing. And you are a guest. Sit.” Ignoring the put-off pout the other man shot him, he started grabbing what he needed – glancing once in the direction of his brother.

He would get better, it was just taking a little longer this time.

It happened, he told himself.

-

It was there, faint but present, the touch of magic that was unlike his brother’s or Randy’s. It felt familiar, as if they had passed one another by many years ago and he had simply forgotten until then, until now. When he reached for it, cautiously, it felt warm – like the memory of a hearth-fire, the heat he’d once felt when he had been young enough for Azusa to hold when he’d had nightmares.

An image flickered through his limited awareness, partly stolen from impressions left in his brother’s mind – now no longer as steady and secure as it used to be. A girl, short and dressed in blue, long red hair.

He didn’t recognize her face, but her magic left him with the impression of a rough sort of kindness. Unused to people, but genuine.

He recognized it fully when the Nue emerged and he felt the cold, foul hunger of the creature poison his brother further – cutting off that flicker of fire-warmth and stopping its heart.

Or at least, the creature succeeded in stopping her physical heart.

He reached out, more confident this time, and tugged. She came free without a fight, weakened and hurt and confused, but still living.

_“It is not your time to perish.”_ He murmured to the spirit he held – the shape of a girl left behind by the sense of self it had belonged to, impressions of that life bleeding through their shared contact. He could see a village, its buildings taller and wider than the ones of his home. People were scattered faces, brief echoes of voices and the emotions they’d invoked and he learned her name only because she listened when he told her to hold on to it.

Time, time spread out before him, around them and he looked for the nearest possibility – the slightest chance she could survive.

The answer came unexpectedly, as her magic melded with his and suddenly he could see clearer.

It was not one mirror facing another, facing another until an endless corridor emerged. It was like the tilt of a lens bringing everything into focus, similarities of a reality so close to the original he’d almost passed it by. She was there, his brother, still shadowed by the Nue, was there.

_“Please save him.”_ He pushed the thought forward as she was pulled away from him – confusion slipping back through the faltering connection of their magic, what remained of him and the wholeness of her.

Hope was a strange thing to feel after so long.

-

“You’re his brother, aren’t you?” She asks into the space between them, trying to perceive his shape beyond the likeness of the butterfly in his brother’s pendant. He is not sure if she succeeds, as she is still a living being and he is now more spirit than anything else.

But the Nue has worn his face in front of her, so perhaps she can see him now – this is the third time they’ve met, isn’t it?

_“I am.”_ He answers, threads of what can, could, will be passing by his wings. It is getting harder to find a match, the possibilities are narrower than before, the outcomes drawn taunt between fluctuating sides.

He thinks he can feel his brother’s resolve beginning to crumble – propelled by doubt and pain, the nightmares sent by the Nue pulling him forward and the kindness of the girl beside him drawing him back.

She is quiet, her magic synchronizing with his like a clock finally being wound. It eases the burden on him even as it tires her, but he only has so much left before he becomes more a thought than a spirit. There is a determination in her presence that pushes his concern for her aside, she offers her help without him asking and will not take it back.

“Can’t you stop that monster?” She asks, and he sees the layers of the question. He has caused her pain by sending her back like this, will continue causing that pain in an attempt to find the best outcome for her and his sibling. He understands the hurt behind the tinge of accusation and is surprised by her genuine curiosity.

_“No. But I believe that you can.”_ It is the only answer he can give - because he can see her past, the present and the decisions that led to this, may lead to this again, but the future is opaque to him.

The lens tilts, the world she knew and does not know comes into focus and for the first time he can hear the sounds of the world just as she can. It feeds the tiny spark of hope inside him, for better or for worse. She hesitates before following the pull of waking, she has more questions but they have no time and he hopes, more than anything else, it will be a very long time before they meet like this again.

_“Please save him.”_

-

She is holding his hand and the fact that he can register sensation is a terrifying, wonderful thing. Her breath tickles his face, warm and soft, his eyes open and he is unsure when they had closed. They are facing one another on their sides, one of her hands wrapped around his and he can feel warmth everywhere all around him.

Beyond her and their immediate vicinity it grows blurry but it looks like one of the rooms of his home. Her home. Their home.

“Am I dead?” She asks, swallowing carefully once the words are out.

“I don’t think so.” He answers, because he can feel that the warmth is coming from her and not from him. At that she relaxes a little, her mouth curling up into a faint smile and now he can see that she has freckles.

He’s only seen one other person who has freckles, but hers are darker and she has more of them than Randy did. Her hair is very red, he sees that now. Her eyes are brown and she’s watching him study her like this is the first time they’ve ever met.

“I think you reached for me in your sleep.” He murmurs, confused. The theory is at least possible because he’s pulled her from her body several times, but never while she has been in full health. He decides to put it aside – if she is the one who brought him here then once she wakes up things will go back to how they were.

“Is that a problem?” She tilts her head as much as she can, some of her hair trapped under her cheek.

“I don’t believe so.” A smile is tugging his lips upwards and he is surprised that he doesn’t mind.

Being like this isn’t bad at all, even if it wouldn’t last.

“I think…” She stops, tucking her lower lip between her teeth and worrying at it for a second, fingers briefly squeezing his own. “I think I know what’s going on.”

It’s his turn to tilt his head, the sensation of his hair catching and dragging a little against the floor both familiar and foreign. She glances down, which prompts him to do the same and he finds himself staring at her middle as she slowly presses her hand there. He doesn’t understand at first, not until he feels it – tiny, so very tiny and delicate.

He squeezes her fingers tightly for several seconds, happy and wistful all at once.

“Nii-san won’t know what to do. You’re going to terrify him with this.” He let himself laugh and she joins in, squeezing back softly when he starts to sound like he might cry.

“That’s hardly fair, ‘cause I’m scared too.” She’s serious underneath the veneer of humor, he can see and he wants to say so many things.

“Will you be my mother?” Comes out instead, frail and hushed and that shouldn’t be right because he isn’t –

Oh.

She stares at him, off-guard and almost guilty for a second.

“I’d thought about naming them after you. If that’s okay.”

It made sense. He doesn’t speak until he’s sure he can talk normally, but smiles nonetheless.

“Yes.”

Her smile is everything he’d glimpsed that first encounter, firelight warm and kind, strong in ways he and his brother aren’t.

He can’t wait for the little one to be born.


	59. Looking Forward - Randolph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Found myself thinking about Randolph and this happened.
> 
> None of the names other than Randolph’s are approved by Solmare.

He finds who is looking for in the office of his old friend, the First King, now deceased. The man’s son, his eldest, sits in the desk’s chair now – the young man’s gaze going well past the organized piles of paperwork and into some private distance Randolph cannot discern. It is surreal to see him there, knowing that his friend is gone, that he has watched this boy before him grow and learn and now he must be a King in spite of now being an orphan.

“I thought you might come here, Sir Randolph.” His voice is soft, weary as someone several times his young age might be. But he blinks, lifting his hands to rub at his face before he faces him.

Randolph can see both of his parents in his face. The slope of his nose, angle of his jaw, even the color of his hair. He misses them, yes, but surely not as much as this boy does.

“I suppose you know me too well.” He offers the youth a smile, closing the door behind him gently. In his hand is a covered tray, because he still remembers what it felt like to be without family, and how little he wanted to interact with the outside world. “Though I distinctly recall asking you to call me Randolph, not Sir.”

“Well, eventually I’ll learn.” A flicker of a smile crosses the other’s face, eyes settling on the tray in curiosity. He thinks he can nearly pinpoint the instant his former student recognizes what it holds, and the refusal building, politely, in the back of his throat.

“You need to eat something, Edmond.” Crossing the distance between them, he sets the tray down carefully before the younger man. Tugging off the cloth covering it, he pushes the soup and bread towards the shorter male. “Grieving on an empty stomach isn’t a pleasant thing.”

Hazel eyes lift towards his face, resignation and reluctant gratitude running through them before he reaches for the spoon.

“Thank you.” He says, softer than expected. It makes his heart twist to hear the defeat there, but he lets it be.

While the soon to be monarch puts something in his stomach Randolph turns his gaze elsewhere, spotting various familiar things, losing himself to the memories that accompany them. Siegfried’s journals still occupy one of the shelves, the leather on a couple of them showing their age. A portrait of Claudia watches them with tender eyes from the wall, her mouth forever caught in a smile that’s small, holding a lingering secret within its faint curve.

There are also things he doesn’t recognize right off – a pair of gloves too small for the other male in the room, but their daintiness leads him to think that they might belong to Edmond’s youngest sister, Cornelia. Richard’s favorite mantle is cast over the back of another chair, dark wool threaded with gold.

He tries to find some evidence of the oldest sister, Olivia, and it comes in a pen resting not far from Edmond’s side – the tip dry but he knows that she writes beautifully even when she is in a hurry.

“How are they?” The question interrupts his musings, draws his gaze towards Edmond’s upturned face. He’s set the spoon down, the bowl at least half-full still, and only one piece of bread has gone missing.

“Last I saw your sisters were in the library.” He does not want to say that they have been there almost exclusively since the funeral, but part of him is sure that Edmond can see it in his face. Or at least read between the lines. “Richard is out riding. I made him promise to be back before sundown.”

The other’s expression lightens a bit, a steadier smile touching his face. “Thank you for that. Without someone to ground him, my brother might well ride off to challenge the moon if it crossed his mind.”

Randolph can’t help but chuckle at that, because it’s true.

For a moment, the office seems less empty and brighter before the two of them grow quiet again.

“I realize now that I never said thank you.” Edmond straightens up to face him, in his seriousness he looks so similar to his mother that it hurts.

“You just did.” Randolph reminds him, gently, even though he’s aware, or at least suspects, that the young man is talking about something different.

“Not for all your lessons.” The crown prince counters, his eyes regaining a little fire with their banter. “Or all the things you showed us outside the lectures and classrooms. You and Sir Molders.”

“Don’t let him hear you call him that. Claude hates being addressed by titles.” He warns, partly serious and entirely truthful. It’s a refreshing thing about the man, his dear friend, which he admires.

“All the same, without the two of you I suspect I would be worse off than I am now.” The shorter male eyes the desk, the papers on it, and some of the weariness returns. “If I am completely honest, I don’t even know where to begin.”

He allows himself a moment sympathize before he steps closer, arranging the most familiar stack of papers into a neater shape. “I realize that telling you no one has all the answers is not what you want to hear,” lifting his gaze, he caught the flash of resignation on the crown prince’s face, “but what I can tell you is this. Gedonelune is a young kingdom, and in two days you will be her King. You will not be alone in considering what decisions will be best for her and her people, but these are things you must decide on. Trust in your heart and what you have learned, Edmond, and I believe you may make a fine monarch.”

He saw the young man swallow and continued, gently, “The fact that you came here to consider what to do next makes me believe that you might already be on that path. But you must remember that you need to rest, just the same as everyone else.”

“Even you, Randolph?” There was a hint of a challenge in the question, a small jab at what had never been spoken about.

Seventeen years and more he’d been with the Royal Family, but only those around him seemed to show it – his own face unmarked by time other than the occasional lengthening of his hair.

“Even me.” He smiled, letting out a short laugh.

Edmond chuckled at least, expression shifting towards something less sad.

It was a good enough start.

-

“Headmaster Randolph?” The voice, coupled with the knock on the doors of his office prompted him to look up. The portal swung open when he called for the visitor to enter, he straightened up and set down his pen as a student entered his field of vision.

The young lady, a third year Vir Ingeous, bowed shyly once the doors closed themselves. She absently wrung her hands in her cloak, quickly smoothing the material once she realized she was doing it. He offered her a smile, “How can I help you, my dear?”

“Well…” She dropped her gaze from his, glancing once at the wall of framed plants before mustering her courage. “Professor Tine instructed us to choose a song to perform for the annual Festival and I chose the First Queen but…” She hesitated, tightly clasping her hands so as not to fidget again.

“But?” He prompted gently, an idea forming in the back of his mind.

“There aren’t that many books that mention the Queen and I’ve checked the Library and the archives, most of what I can find mentions that she possibly had the ability to talk to animals and she made several important political treaties but…” Her expression faltered, her fingers twisting now that she was no longer minding them.

“But it’s difficult to make something from that.” He offered, pleased when the young lady nodded. Taking a moment, he closed his eyes in thought. When he opened them, he had several ideas. “Are you sure that this is the subject you wish to present at the Festival?”

“Yes sir!” Her cheeks flooded with color, apparently taken aback by the enthusiasm of her own answer. In a softer voice, she continued, “It’s usually the First King that’s presented, even in the old songs. That or his children, but I… I really admire the Queen.” She finished, gaze darting from his sheepishly.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. You are correct in that most documents that survive only mention her as a political figure. However,” picking up his pen, he pulled a piece of parchment close and began writing. Soft footsteps told him that she’d come closer, either in curiosity or hopefulness. “There are some writings that are kept solely by the Royal Family or their archivists. We might be able to get a copy of some for you to study,” he glanced up, gauging the expression on her face, “would that be acceptable?”

“Y-Yes sir.” She was glowing, almost, eyes round with happiness and surprise. “More than that. Are you sure they might consider it though?” Her brows furrowed, doubt creeping over her face.

It was understandable, but he’d made sure to keep several friends within the castle over the years.

“We can always try. I have your word that you will do your best?” Setting aside his pen and folding the missive once the ink dried, the process made quicker by enchantment, he peered at her from beneath slightly raised brows.

“Yes! I promise sir, I’ll do my absolute best!” Her excitement was back, she bowed again as he wrote the address and sent the envelope on its way.

It fluttered from his fingers, floating towards his window and easing itself out to catch a breeze. From there, it sped off, out of sight for them both.

Facing the young lady once again, he smiled. “I look forward to seeing your performance then. Now, I believe you still have another half hour for lunch?”

She bowed again, buoyant and still slightly sheepish and hurried out the door.

He laughed, gently and without malice. “Ah youth. So much energy.”


	60. Vantage Point - Klaus & Serge/Eleanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different people witnessing the same event, towards the end of Randy’s route.
> 
> Spoilers for Randy’s identity.

The air between the two older wizards grew less charged once the words left Prefect Klaus’ mouth, the glimmering web of Serge’s magic that held him in place moving to ease the tall man back onto the ground, disappearing once Klaus’ feet were touching the soil. He wobbled slightly before falling to his knees, palms out to catch himself before he could completely fall into the dirt.

She heard a noise from Serge in time with her own gasp, felt her heart twist at the pain coming from her Buddy’s throat as he started to move towards his former classmate.

 _“Don’t.”_ The word was sharp enough to cut, the harshest yet she’d ever heard from the Prefect. Serge stopped as if he’d been physically struck, her suspicions confirmed when she looked at his face – normally cheerful features twisted in hurt as he stared at Klaus. When she turned her eyes back to the fallen blond he hadn’t moved except for the tight clenching of his fists.

“You have a unicorn to go and see, don’t you? So _go_.“ It sounded as though he were speaking through gritted teeth, but it was hard to say when he wouldn’t lift his face to look at them.

Serge hesitated, hands lifting in an aborted gesture before they hung limply by his sides. It hurt to see him like that, to see them both like this – robbed of the presence and energy she’d come to know them for.

“Alright.” Serge’s voice was soft, more cautious and defeated than she’d ever heard it. He turned towards her, trying to work up a smile but it just looked terribly sad. One of his hands extended towards her, long fingers curled in invitation. “Eleanor?”

It sent a pang through her heart to hear him say her name like that, like the way he had the first night on the balcony when he’d said goodbye. She pushed the memory aside, and the hurt it still brought, and took a step.

Then changed direction and gained speed, causing her Buddy to let out a surprised call of her name.

Her knees burned a little when she came to a stop and kneeled in front of Klaus, momentum making her landing not as smooth as she’d hoped. Reaching up, she wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself close – close enough that she could feel the jerk of surprise that went through him and the heat of his skin that began to seep into hers when he didn’t pull away.

Her face felt hot, hotter than she could explain away but she didn’t let go.

Klaus’ shoulders were broader than Serge’s, and she had to stretch to keep her hold on him. But he was warm, solid, and from this position, with her face practically against his neck, she could catch the scent of Assam tea and something else.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Randy, Prefect Klaus.” It took more courage than she thought to get the words out, her voice small and throat thick with emotion. “But we’re going to fix it, I promise. Please just… just wait a little longer.” Tightening her arms carefully, she gave him a squeeze, hardly daring to believe he hadn’t pushed her away or yelled at her.

He’d gone stiff at the mention of Randy, and she could sense an uneasy air behind them that belonged to Serge – parts confusion and concern, probably, but he was too far away and her voice too low for him to hear.

She jumped in surprise when Klaus finally moved, a ragged breath by her ear flooding her face with heat just as surely as the hand carefully patting the space between her shoulder blades did. The touch was surprisingly gentle, the weight of his hand not unpleasant there.

“You’re going to be late the more you dawdle, Thomas.” His voice sounded low and rough, but she nodded, felt a delicate sort of happiness for the fact that he didn’t sound angry. He dropped his hand away when she uncurled her arms and pulled back, her own hands briefly resting on his shoulders for balance.

Violet eyes studied her face, stern features slowly regaining their composure that she was more familiar with. What he was looking for, she didn’t know, couldn’t say, but carefully tugged her lips up into a tiny smile – just for him.

Then she was getting up, careful not to bump into him as he got to his feet as well. Feeling suddenly shy, she took a step back from him before turning and quickly walking over to Serge, taking his hand bashfully and keeping her head down so he wouldn’t see the pink on her cheeks.

Above her head she thought she heard a weak chuckle, but she felt the gentle squeeze of his hand around hers. He started walking after a heavy pause, as if he were debating something, and she followed him slowly – too embarrassed to look back.

-

He heard Serge call out, thought to himself that he hadn’t expected the pink-haired wizard’s Buddy to just take off like that – perhaps they’d scared her with their duel, enough to make her run away. The thought abruptly dissipated when the footsteps haphazardly slowed and the girl came skidding to a stop just before him, her arms fumbling over the breadth of his shoulders as she tried to wrap them around his neck.

His body went stiff under the unfamiliar touch, several protests rising to his lips and dying there when she turned her face into his neck and held him tightly against her smaller frame. Serge’s expression had to be a mirror of his own – though he thought he could see something besides surprise within the look his rival was giving them. Something vaguely hurt, but understanding.

Thomas’ hair tickled his skin from where one of her silly pigtails touched his cheek and neck, but she smelled of something sweet – not pure sugar, no, more like… cookies. As if she’d baked earlier that day and the scent hadn’t entirely left her still. Beneath it was something softer, easier to miss. _Floral_ , he thought, but exactly what sort of flower he couldn’t quite place.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Randy, Prefect Klaus.” He felt her murmur, her voice small and further muffled by his clothes where she’d buried her face. A bolt of anger spread through him, tensing muscles that’d begun to relax. She had no right to speak of his friend, the one he’d lost when her foolish, _irresponsible_ Buddy had made his ‘mistake’ six years ago.

Her slender arms squeezed him gently and he thought he could feel her shaking, just a little. In that same little voice, Thomas forged on, likely using up all her courage to do so. “But we’re going to fix it, I promise. Please just… just wait a little longer.”

Like a cork pulled free, he felt some of his anger leave him – enough that he cast a glance over her head towards her Buddy who still watched them, hands twisting the cloth of his shirt.

Serge looked uneasy, worried for his girl and for him, but didn’t look as if he was going to step in.

Slowly, he raised a hand and gently patted Thomas’ back, between the shoulder blades – releasing a breath as he did so. The subsequent inhale brought her scent back to him, girlish and oddly innocent.

“You’re going to be late the more you dawdle, Thomas.” He managed, not liking how his voice lacked some of its composure. She shifted, possibly in acquiescence and he pulled his arm away from her back when she started to rise. Her hands lingered for a second on his shoulders as she got her balance and he took the opportunity to study her face.

Freckles dotted the skin across her nose and cheeks, charming evidence of hours spent in the sun. Her eyes were a soft brown, reminded him of a doe’s when they turned to his face and found him watching her. There was still a significant amount of pink in her cheeks, but her emotions were written clear as day for him to see.

She was worried. Over him, someone she barely knew outside the classroom and hallways of the Academy.

Thomas quirked her mouth, soft-looking and lips petal pink, into a tiny smile that looked equal parts embarrassed and hopeful. Then she stood, breaking the moment, and he made himself follow suit. Once standing she stepped back from him, suddenly skittish, or shy, and all but darted back to Serge’s side.

He watched as she took his hand with both of hers, head down as if that would hide the look on her face.

Serge glanced his way, eyes soft and full of a light he’d never seen before, a weak chuckle he barely heard leaving the wizard’s mouth before he started walking. Thomas followed, not needing to be led, her head still angled towards the ground as she moved.

Slowly, he took a deep breath and steadied himself, willing his heart to return to normal.

-

He hadn’t known what to think when Eleanor suddenly turned from him and jogged away, his thoughts blown like leaves in a breeze as he’d watched her go. Until she’d gotten near to Klaus and fallen awkwardly to her knees and, of all things, hugged him!

The expression on Klaus’ face was one he hadn’t seen in a very long time – possibly rivaling the face he’d made when he’d been ambushed by Randy after the first day of classes their first year.

When Eleanor didn’t immediately let go he felt a little bolt of jealousy course through him, and he guiltily tried to push it away. She was his Buddy and they’d… they’d talked about what’d happened and she’d said she wanted to remain Buddies with him. That she wanted him to stay, at the Academy and with her.

And if he could clearly see that Klaus needed this, then he’d do his best not to begrudge him.

After all, he smiled a little to himself, Eleanor was just that sweet of a girl to worry about others ahead of herself.

She must have said something to Klaus, because the blond’s expression turned angry for a second and he held himself very stiff in Eleanor’s embrace. He straightened up a little himself, watching for any sign of trouble.

Not that he expected Klaus to hurt her. The blond wouldn’t, of that he was sure.

The anger drained from Klaus’ expression a moment later and he watched as violet eyes slowly closed, a look of pain crossing his face. He wondered what Eleanor must have said to make his old rival look like that, to make him awkwardly raise an arm to pat her back when she hugged him tighter.

The sort-of embrace lasted several seconds, each one tempting him to look away, or possibly clear his throat.

Part of him felt ashamed of his own relief when Eleanor finally pulled back and Klaus let her go, the Prefect’s expression easing up somewhat as he stared at his Buddy. Violet eyes left her face and he met Klaus’ stare evenly, suppressing the urge to worry at his lip.

Eleanor stood up and so did Klaus, his precious girl taking a step back from the taller man before turning around and almost jogging over to where he stood. It surprised him when she took his hand, the one he’d offered to her before, in both of hers. Her hands were smaller than his, a bit calloused, and she squeezed his hand as she stood closer to him, almost tucking herself against his side as she kept her head down.

Even so, he could glimpse the dusting of pink over her cheeks, sweet embarrassment written all over her body language.

His chest warmed at the sight, a feeling like butterfly wings fluttering in his stomach. He squeezed her hands back gently, letting himself chuckle softly at her shyness.

For a moment he didn’t move, glancing over her head at Klaus, seeing the carefully neutral look he was giving them.

He’d find a way to save his rival too. They would, he and Eleanor, he was sure of it.

Giving his precious girl’s hands a gentle tug, he started walking, turning them towards the scant trail through the trees. Eleanor followed closely, her steps carefully in line with his own.

-

A pair of blue eyes watched as the pink haired wizard and the blond Prefect had their exchange, the formidable Goldstein prodigy collapsing afterward. The brunette girl running over to the fallen man surprised him as well, perhaps not so much as it did her Buddy and the bothersome blond.

He was too far away to hear anything said, but stayed where he was until the unlikely pair parted - part of him hating that he felt sympathy for the worried, almost hurt aura that surrounded his now former roommate.

He watched as the girl returned to Randy’s side, standing close to him as she had when he’d walked in on the two dancing in an enchanted classroom together; a twinge of jealousy in his chest made all the more poignant for the fact that he envied them both.

Turning away from the sight - of the girl and her childish kindness, from the candy loving wizard and the light in rose-gold eyes he’d envied since the beginning, he started walking. He would need to change his clothes soon, the feeling of drying blood making his skin itch.


	61. Together - Yukiya & Delia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment for them, between everything else.

“You smell different.” Yukiya’s eye trailed over her face as she fell into step next to him, the simple words making heat rise to her cheeks. Their cloaks brushed as they walked and she dug around in her bag for a moment. Plastic crinkled gently under her fingers and she drew out wrapped package for her Buddy to see.

His step slowed just a little as he considered it, the somewhat sloppy Carbuncle cookies grinning cheerfully from within the wrapping.

“They smell good.” Was all he said and she couldn’t help but smile at that.

“They’re for Elias, since I never thanked him properly for helping me when you were sick.” As she slipped them back into the confines of her bag, she caught a glimpse of understanding in his expression - no more than the faint tilt of his head, a subtle lift in one corner of his mouth.

Her fingers brushed something else, paper rather than plastic, and she pulled it out to offer it to him.

He stopped walking as she did, head angled down to peer at the wrapped bundle. Had Wolfy been present, she was sure the magical beast’s ears would have twitched in annoyance.

“You never told me what all you like so… I improvised a little.” It took more will than she thought to hold her hand steady, even though Yukiya’s hand was gentle when he took the gift from her. His skin was warm and he sent a curious glance towards her face as he unwrapped it.

With his sense of smell, she’d thought he would’ve already known what it was - still, the way his eye widened a little, then softened, made her heart beat a little faster.

It’d crumbled a little when she tried to wrap it, specks of brown sugar falling out from between the folds of paper. The scent of cinnamon and apples suffused the air immediately between them and she thought he might have taken a deeper breath just to savor it.

“Apple crumb cake. I-I hope you like it.” It didn’t do any justice to his own gesture of affection, the shower of Aruenaristies he’d conjured for her but she could, would, do better.

“Delia.” He was looking at her, her present for him held carefully in one large hand. He’d raised his free one and she could feel his warmth when he tucked her hair behind her ear.

It was funny, how calming that was. She felt some of the tension ease away under the light contact and released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Let’s go.” His smile seemed to fold away, but some of it remained in he twinkle of his eye. She let herself nod, adjusting the hold on her bag.

The walk to class was no different, but she felt a little better just being beside him.


	62. Second Meetings - Aina & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not what anyone expected, to be sure.

She’d thought that it might be easy, just knock and open the door when Prefect Klaus said to enter, ask her questions carefully and then leave. Joel wouldn’t have to set foot inside, and the Prefect, hopefully, would be none the wiser. However, after being told to go inside Aina found herself pinned in place by a pair of preoccupied, steadily growing impatient, violet eyes.

The first thing to enter her mind was the fact that Klaus was wearing glasses. Reading glasses.

Later, it might strike her as funny - such a high-ranking, powerful wizard as him needing aid just to read, like she did. Except her problem wasn’t with her eyesight, just a lack of education and experience.

Second was the snap of his voice, authoritative as it had been when he’d collected Joel and herself to head for the Headmaster’s office on her first day. The dismissive, penetrating quality of his voice struck a chord in her head - effectively freezing her to the spot.

“If you don’t have anything to say then leave. I have little enough time as it is.” He glanced at the papers in his hands, missing the tremble which had taken over hers - rooted as one was to the doorknob. Words fled from her brain, the questions she’d meant to ask evaporating like a water spell against a shield of fire.

Her eyes burned, even with the wetness that was creeping up.

She felt herself try to breathe, open-mouthed as if she’d finally found what she’d come to say, but the noise that emerged, soft and a little pathetic sounding, was hardly speech. If her eyes had been open, if she’d been looking, she could have seen the Prefect’s head snap up, his eyes going slightly round behind his glasses as he, for all intents and purposes, watched her break down in his doorway.

_In his doorway._

She was crying, which was not at all a part of the plan and _fairies, elves, and all magical beings_ she sounded so _stupid_ to her own ears. But it wouldn’t stop, even when her brain finally gave her hands the signal to wipe at her eyes the tears just kept coming. Her mouth was moving, trying to say something, maybe, but all she was sure of was that it sounded _hideous_.

“What is the matter with you?” The scrape of a chair and the soft thump of papers on wood reached her ears, followed closely by his question - rhetorical or not, she didn’t have an answer for him. Sniffing, grossed out by herself, she tried to formulate a sentence. His footsteps had stopped just by her by the time she managed it; his presence filled a room easily enough on its own and the fact that he hadn’t ousted her immediately gave her a twisted sense of amusement and hope.

“I-I just… I-I wanted to s-say h-hello and th-thanks for th-that day in the H-Headmaster’s o-office…” The cuffs of her sleeves were partly soaked and her voice sounded horrible, but she felt a minuscule bit of pride in managing that much in this situation.

He remained silent, disbelieving probably, until she felt a warm, heavy hand awkwardly touch her shoulder. She couldn’t help but jump at the touch, startling them both, but no further assault of waterworks seemed forthcoming.

A part of her wondered if he was as relieved as her about that.

“Well then… if that is all you cam here for.” He paused, discomfort broadcasting clearly enough that she wouldn’t have been surprised if it was giving Eress a headache.

That could happen to fairies, right?

“Hello, Aina Dunn.” His voice brought her back to the present, more composed now that he probably felt that he’d found a solution to this awkward situation. His fingers lightly, barely, squeezed her shoulder once - the gesture a little odd but somewhat comforting. “Welcome to the Academy.”

She scrubbed at her eyes with the less damp part of her sleeve, ignoring the sting from the thick wool as it rubbed against her skin. Looking up, and _up_ because he was much, much taller than her, she worked up the proper muscles needed to give him a tiny, closed-lip smile.

“N-nice to meet you. Again, I mean. Prefect Klaus. Sir.” She winced, carefully taking a deep breath to calm herself down. He drew his hand back, not that she blamed him, and seemed ready to wait and see if she had anything else to say.

Rather than chance it, she shifted her weight back and cleared her throat. “I’ll uh.. I’ll leave you to it. Sorry about, _that_ , and interrupting you.”

“Once you are feeling better, if you have questions about the Academy you are welcome to bring them to me.” Raising a hand to adjust his tie, unnecessarily, she thought, he gave her a careful once-over of consideration. The fact that he’d glossed over her little… outburst, made her want to thank him. “Do not stay out too long. Curfew is in a few hours.”

“Yes sir. I’ll head right back.” Taking that as her cue, she carefully opened the door and stepped out, hoping he wouldn’t continue staring after her in case Joel or Eress was in easy view of the doorway.

They weren’t, and Eress looked ready as a fat bubble to pop from the expression of irritation and smug amusement on her face. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Joel, instead taking the longest strides her legs were capable of away from the Prefect’s office door.

The sound of shoes that weren’t hers let her know that her Buddy was following, whether she liked it or not.

“You really blew that, seriously, did you even go in there with any sort of _plan_?!” Eress demanded, finally abandoning whatever self control she’d used to keep quiet for those precious few minutes. The little fairy bobbed in tight, agitated circles before her eyes, wings blurring like a hummingbird’s as she spoke.

“I didn’t mean to, okay?! I don’t know what happened, he just -” She stopped herself, tucking her arms in around her sides, holding her stomach. Her feet moved a little faster, like that would help her outrun Eress’ jibes and Joel’s, so far, quiet presence.

“Aina.” The soft way he said her name shouldn’t have made her slow down, she wanted to reason. If anything it should’ve made her go faster, put more distance between them and her. But Joel’s legs here longer than hers and he matched her stride easily enough.

“I’m sorry.” Tucking her face into the shadow of her cloak’s collar, she kicked at a pebble as they turned from the hallway’s path towards the courtyard. It hadn’t been intentional, but she found herself feeling a little better once they were out from under the corridor’s arched stone passages. “I didn’t mean to mess up so bad. I thought if I went in and asked I could maybe learn something but he looked up and… And I just kinda new that he wouldn’t buy whatever I said.”

“So you used crocodile tears on the Prefect to get yourself out?” A tug on the edge of her cloak brought her to a full stop, the tone of his voice sounding teasing. She didn’t resist when Joel slowly turned her around to face him, but she didn’t lift her head to look at him. From the corner of her eye, Eress fluttered about, coming closer until she could feel the fairy’s tiny weight settle on one shoulder.

“It wasn’t intentional.” She muttered, staring down at their feet in the long grass. Joel’s shoes were less scuffed than hers, and she didn’t know why that brought up a faint stirring of nostalgia in her chest.

“Well from what I could sense, he was making you pretty uncomfortable from the get-go.” Eress chimed in, the vitriol completely absent from her voice. She felt a tiny pat against her cloak, as if the fairy had tried to reassure her. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. There’s always some other place we can check to help the blockhead out.”

“Shut up, bug.” The edge that was usually present in Joel’s voice when he said that was missing.

Perhaps that was why Eress ignored it, choosing instead to lift herself up into the air once again.

“Aina.” She turned her head at the sound of her name, meeting Eress’ tiny stare. “Take a second, okay? I’m gonna stretch my wings but if your boyfriend gives you trouble just call me over and I’ll deal with him.” With a wink, she was off - effectively stopping the protest in her throat.

Joel sighed, grass rustling as he shifted his feet. “She’s a pain.”

“You’re getting along, at least.” She could work up a bit of a smile at that. It made her feel a little better. Just a little.

“Do you want to take a nap?” The question made her look up, meeting her Buddy’s bi-colored gaze for the first time. His expression was neutral, but maybe it wasn’t as steady as usual.

She glanced at the grass around their feet, then back up at him, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Now? I thought you didn’t like it when I did that.”

“I never said I didn’t like it when it’s you.” He rolled his eyes, as if exasperated. “But Eress is right so if you…. wanted to nap or something I wasn’t going to say anything.” He looked away, cheeks slightly pink. The oddity of it made her stare, a giggle building in the back of her mouth.

“I don’t think I could sleep, but you can sit with me.” She walked a little more, deliberately not paying attention to his reaction and picked a spot, easing herself down into a sitting position. The grass tickled her legs, but it was soft. Nicer than the blocky benches positioned within easy reach of the main path.

Joel sat beside her, crosslegged, reaching to pluck several blades of grass and starting to braid them together.

She closed her eyes, inhaling slowly to settle her thoughts.


	63. Righteous - Walter Goldstein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Done for the micro-fic challenge. Featuring a young Walter Goldstein and the Persona Mirror.

The gleam of it was something as close to perfect as he might ever achieve, border of gold filigree accentuating the clear, pristine glass of the mirror. His own reflection stared back at him, blond hair combed back from his forehead, thinly woven through with silver.

A dim glow emanated from the mirror, his own voice emerging in a low murmur.

_“I’ve done it. Made something that cannot be copied, cannot be hidden from. But I fear… I fear what this will bring with it.”_


	64. Candles - Yukiya & Delia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the micro-fic challenge. Yukiya and Delia.

The flickering light was entrancing to him, dotting the counter and stove with their soft luminescence. His nose was able to pick up on the subtle scents mixed in the wax - something soft and clean. Looking around, he finally saw her - the sheet cake with it’s twenty tiny candles lighting up her face, her smile.

“Happy Birthday, Yukiya.”


	65. Empty - Carbuncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the micro-fic challenge. Carbuncle's POV.

Lifting a paw, they scratched at the clear panes of the door keeping them from the outside. Their master was asleep, oblivious to their plight. Sitting their bottom down, they stared up at the moon and felt a little better for it.

It would be so much better if they could be outside, but this was okay too.


	66. Soak - Louis & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another micro-fic. Once again, Louis makes an appearance.

“Are you getting out of there anytime soon? I need to use the bathroom.” Hearing his little brother’s voice, Louis allowed himself a smile.

“Use the other one, Klaus.”

“No, you took mine and I don’t want anything to do with yours. Get out of the bath already.”


	67. Nightfall - Randy March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micro-fic. Featuring the real Randy March after waking from stone.

Stretching out his arms as far as they would allow, he stared up at the expanse of sky above him. The stars were brighter than he remembered them ever being, even back when he’d first attended the Academy. Around him the scent of carem drifted up, bringing back memories.


	68. Dust Motes - Reece Killian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A micro fic requested by jambajunkie, to hurt their heart.  
> Inspired by Jinx (gorecorset)

There are specks of things floating in the air, catching the light and drawing her gaze even as it becomes harder and harder to watch. She thought they might be tufts of down from some kind of bird, maybe one that held a rainbow within its wings.

There’s a familiar tightness within her throat. No, around it.

It isn’t his hands. He hasn’t touched her like that since - 

_It wasn’t dust floating in the air, just sunlight and dappled shadow; loose strands of his hair brushing her face as tree bark scraped her palms and pressed uncomfortably against her back. His face close enough that she thought there were flecks of darker blue in his eyes. His breath brushing over her skin and his fingers tighten, keep tightening -_

_It hurts. She can’t breathe and it hurts, the walls of her throat scraping together when she tries to inhale._

_She’s not brave enough to push at him, her hands stay frozen in place and her vision wavers because there’s a salty heat building in the backs of her eyes that threatens to spill over_

They keep dancing, tufts of something glinting silver and white in the still air and she can’t breathe. He’s not here and she still can’t breathe and it hurts just the same.


	69. Undone - Anima & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micro fic requested by an anon on tumblr, for Klaus/MC.

“Klaus, _stop_.” Anima can’t help the edge that creaks within her voice or how her hands clench the fabric of her dress into rumpled bunches. Across from her he’s done just that, gone so very still that she wonders if she’d accidentally cast a Primitive spell on him.

It isn’t something she wants to talk about, but he won’t stop bringing it up. In his own way, of course.

His chair creaks with his weight and when she opens her eyes his hand is extended, reaching out for her because he can sense her hurting. She just hasn’t let him in enough that he can try and help.

She isn’t even sure he can.

“I don’t… I don’t _know_ if I can have children, okay? Can we just… “ Not talk about it. Turn aside when Mrs. Goldstein gently inquires if something is wrong, fixing the attention towards Elias and his fiance rather than have to answer.

She’s run out of ways to run away, short of going to see her father and she isn’t that desperate just yet. And now she may never be, because the truth is out in the open.

The chair opposite hers scrapes the floor when he stands. Not the quick burst of motion another person might make, no, he is deliberate in this as he is in nearly everything he devotes himself to.

He is so very, very careful in untangling her hands from her dress.

“Anima. It’s alright.”

She doesn’t want to admit that the choked, muffled sound came from her own throat.


	70. Motes of Dust - Azusa Kuze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Azusa does deserve his fair treatment.  
> Follow up to Dust Motes.

He hasn’t gone in, feet still immobile on the stretch of path he dimly remembers a man he shared resemblance with being proud of. The house does not look so bad for having been left to itself for so long. The calmer, rational part of him realizes that part of that due is likely owed to the shikigamis he left behind.

He has to go inside. It’s his, his home.

Just his, for now.

The door slides open with only a faint rattle and the air that greets him is not as stale as he would have expected. Of course, he realizes, he has to get used to this place again. The houses of Hinomoto are not like those of Gedonelune, the elements are not shut out through thick walls and there is no carpet to insulate him from the chill of the floorboards.

_“Azusa, come, you’ll be late!”_

_“Brother, you’re back! Tell me about what happened, please?”_

_“What do you mean I can’t come home with you just yet? I can help with the cleaning, if that’s your reason. You’ve seen my dorm plenty of times. We’re going to be married soon, right? I’d like to see it before the ceremony.”_

There is so much that needs to be done. Rooms that need to be cleaned. He can’t trust a shikigami with it and he doesn’t want her anywhere near this place before it’s clean. Pure.

Until all the dark, opportunistic things in the corners of his vision are gone. For good.

He opens the windows, the doors, all of them. Lets all the sunlight he can get spill in but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

There is still something, he knows it, even as he gently, so very gently opens the door to the one room in the house he’s never gone into except to do this very task.

Tsukasa’s room is further up, closer to his, but this…

He shouldn’t have looked at their faces. Their still, immortal eyes.

How could he have let so much dust into this room, their room?

_“Don’t rush so for the baby to come, Azusa. It’s bad luck to wish someone early to life.”_

_“See? You felt the kick, didn’t you? That is your little brother.”_

 

He doesn’t sit so much as he falls, a slow, shuddering breath trembling in his throat.

There are shadows here too, one’s he’d never thought to consider clearing out.


	71. Bauble - Serge, Randy, Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micro fic. Featuring Serge, Randy, and Klaus.

“Is there a reason you’ve involved me in this moronic plan?” Klaus’ voice grates over the relative quiet of the night, the blond watching him from his spot on the cobbled path from the dorms.

“Not moronic.” He shoots back without much attention, stretching as high as he can to place the ornament in the next spot. He feels Serge’s hands steady him, warm and careful on his side and back.

His Buddy passes him another shiny sphere, pinching it delicately by its thin brass hook. “Besides Klaus, when’s the last time the dorm was decorated? It always looks so dull over here. The girls always do something, so why shouldn’t we?”

He hears Serge’s chuckle and Klaus’ sigh within seconds of each other, quickly followed by his Buddy’s muttered curse when he leans too far off the ladder; hands at his waist tighten, ready to pull him back in an instant.

From the ground level, he can sense the same readiness in Klaus and it makes him smile.


	72. Familiar Expectations - Anima & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows the rules. That doesn’t mean that she feels inclined to follow them anymore.

In the mirror she could see the nerves lurking just behind her own eyes, the faint tremor in her own fingers as she tied the bow at the hollow of her throat. She eyed the reflection of her suitcase, mentally composing an inventory of the outfits inside and what image they could project.

For all the hours she’d gone back and forth over the choices, she’d finally settled on the few for the two weeks of break.

And meeting Klaus’ parents. As his girlfriend, not just his Buddy.

She knew of the Goldsteins, knew their achievements better than some and a short list of their failures that might pass for common knowledge. Walter Goldstein was admittedly more familiar simply because he’d been a classmate, and rival with, her father.

Of his wife, she had little to go on besides sparse words from Klaus and Elias and the singular photograph of her Klaus had allowed her to peer at.

An older woman yes, but still very attractive. Blonde, possibly waist-length hair had been pulled up into a braided fashion she wasn’t familiar with herself, a pair of kind but measuring blue eyes staring out from the photograph accentuated the contained, but genuine, smile on her face. Similar to the picture of Elaine, Mrs. Goldstein had been outside when it was taken - though the background differed in that it appeared to be a garden, not unlike the one Klaus had shown her in his book.

Elias had confided that his mother was a gentle woman, so far as he knew. She loved her family, especially when her sons came to visit, and had been a source of steady, if somewhat solitary, support for her youngest son.

From her father, she knew that Tabitha Goldstein was not an ornamental wife. There were projects, among the upper echelons of magical society yes, that bore the woman’s name and support. Most had proven fruitful over the years, even extending out beyond the borders of Gedonelune.

Her eyes strayed to the suitcase again, this time from over her shoulder rather than from the mirror.

Her uniform wouldn’t be needed until classes resumed.

Turning her head, she eyed the dress she’d chosen - tailored specifically to convey a serious, mature air.

The bow was heavy at her collar, and the sleeves were just a little too long.

An idea sparked and finally, she smiled.

-

She’d made sure to have the pleasure of arriving early at the station, timing just so that it would be Klaus who arrived after her. Part of her hoped he might appreciate the change, because she did.

At fifteen minutes until the train left, he’d appeared, Elias following close behind. She allowed herself a restrained, brief, smirk when Elias’ eyes sought her out only to do a double-take.

The fact that Klaus let his gaze linger made butterfly wings stir in her middle. She let herself enjoy it for once, rather than pushing it aside.

Alone with him in the train car, she lifted her gaze to meet his when the feeling of his stare continued.

“Do you not like it?” True, she’d never worn this much yellow around him before, but it was considerably more comfortable to her than the dress she’d originally picked out.

A smirk tugged one corner of his mouth up, his eyes curving a little. “It looks good on you.”

Satisfied, she sat back and watched the station pass by.


	73. In Our Own Time, We're There - Elias & Anima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias needs advice and of all people, he chooses his future sister-in-law to ask.

“Perrill? Do you have a moment?” Her eyes finally lift from the spread of papers before her, purple eyes slowly blinking as she considered him. He’d knocked, of course, but she hadn’t responded then.

Elias did his best not to swallow and suppressed the nervousness threatening to make him fidget. Anima’s lips thinned for a moment as she thought, then her hands gathered up the materials around her and set them aside.

“I do now. What is it?”

There was a chair opposite her and he took it, hoping that she wouldn’t catch the slight trembling of his hands as he pulled it out and sat. The temptation to immediately cross his legs was there, but he resisted.

Anima folded one hand over the other in a practiced, oddly elegant, motion. Her gaze was steady, expression mostly neutral.

Against himself, Elias licked his lips to moisten them. The words he’d wanted to say, had been so heated up about, wouldn’t come.

“I had thought you might have taken to calling me by name, Elias. Or is that too informal still?” The question caught him off-guard, dissolving his focus on his inability to speak.

He could see a subtle threat of amusement work its way through her face and thought, not for the first time, that perhaps she and Klaus suited one another.

“Th-that’s not..” He fumbled, shifting awkwardly in his seat. It was easier to look away, and that galled him. “I’ll address you by name when I feel it’s appropriate.”

“It was a joke, Elias.” When her chair creaked softly he stole a glance at her. She’d leaned back, both hands now folded over one knee as she crossed one leg over the other. For a second, he thought her eyes had softened. “Now, what has you coming to me?”

“I fought with Mami.” It left him with surprising ease now. Simple, no extra detail to clog it’s way out of his mouth.

One slim brow rose on Anima’s forehead, just as dark a purple as the long waves of her hair.

“The two of you often have minor arguments. What makes this so different from the rest?”

He winced at that, pushing down his initial response.

“S-she…” Looking away once more, Elias let his eyes roam the shelves of the archives. Almost absently his thumb brushed small circles against the wood of the table they were using. “She’s been distracted lately, ever since I asked her to come with me to our uncle’s birthday celebration.”

“Karl, yes?” Anima tilted her head, expression growing thought when he nodded. Her eyes refocused on his face after a moment, brows lifting a little when she spoke. “Did you really ask her or did you say ‘Come with me to my uncle’s party?’”

“I asked.” He narrowed his eyes, bristling at her question.

She looked less than impressed with his sudden burst of temper, features set dispassionately enough that he felt slightly ashamed of himself.

Once he felt calmer, he cleared his throat. “She seemed… uncomfortable. I told her she wouldn’t have to worry about demonstrating her magic since it is my Uncle’s birthday, there wouldn’t be a chance for her to mess up.”

From the way Anima closed her eyes, slowly, deliberately, he felt an almost exact mix of shame and embarrassment that he’d felt watching Mami’s expression fall when he’d said the words to her.

A beat of silence passed between them. He watched the corners of her mouth turn downwards slightly, eyes shutting a little tighter for a moment.

She drew in a slow breath, features smoothing out until he couldn’t read whatever thoughts were running through her mind - not that he’d had the best track record with that anyway. Her eyes had a determined light to them, when she finally looked at him again.

“You and your brother can be truly clueless sometimes.” She cut off his response with a small gesture, barely lifting a hand from its resting place on her knee but it silenced him all the same.

Gathering herself, she sat a little straighter and looked him in the eye.

“I understand that you use phrases and humor you’ve learned from your family. Everyone does, to some extent. However, I think it best if you consider things from her point of view.”

“Such as?” He ventured, crossing his arms over his chest both out of habit and to attempt to have some sort of barrier between her and himself.

“Mami has improved considerably in both her classes and as your Buddy. Both of you have,” she added, almost offhandedly. “But you shouldn’t have made that comment about her magic.”

Something like discomfort passed over her face and part of him found that intriguing.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.” The words sounded like a weak excuse now, regardless of how he meant them.

“I am aware, Elias.” Anima’s voice lacked any real heat, her eyes focused elsewhere. When she did look at him, there was the smallest flicker of sympathy in her eyes.

“Affection doesn’t come easily to everyone. Mami is… she seems at ease when she is in your company. And that makes you happy.”

He nodded, because it was true. “It does.”

“Then keep in mind that she is just as vulnerable as you are, just in different ways.” There was an edge, faint but present, in the words. “You are asking her to stand in a room with some of the most affluent and judgmental people our magical society knows. This will be her first time meeting anyone of your family besides Klaus and her support system will be considerably smaller than yours.”

“I’ll be there for her.” He couldn’t stop himself from speaking, defensive as it was. Then, in a softer tone, “As will you and Klaus, since you’ll be attending as well.”

“That is not the same, Elias. You are her boyfriend,” she ignored his blush, “and she is going to need you.”

He swallowed, turning the words over in his mind.

“What I’m going to encourage you to do is this,” reaching for her papers, Anima spared a glance his way, “Apologize, you fool.”


	74. Soft - Azusa & Reece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azusa holds his son.

“Is he really that soft?” Reece can’t help but tease, watching him cradle their son’s head.

Azusa, for all the hesitance he’d shown after the birth, enjoyed holding Tsukasa after she’d bathed him. She watched as one of his fingers was captured by a tiny hand and pulled towards their son’s mouth.

“He is.” He sounded distracted, as if he might not have processed her question.


	75. Branching Out - Eleanor & Serge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She feels the years between them sometimes and wants to cross them.

It was a thought she had at times, at random parts of the day. When Serge would look at her over the assembled beakers of his experiments, his eyes might go suddenly warm and dark. His voice sometimes changed, the way he said her name made butterflies stir in her stomach. He looked so mature in those moments, less a childish Prefect and more a confident, handsome man.

In those moments she felt more like a silly girl than anything else, especially when he trailed one hand over her cheek, toyed with the ends of her hair as he liked to do.

He always did it when Prefect Klaus wasn’t around, when Taffy was preoccupied or sleeping.

Two years together and she still felt her cheeks burn when put an arm around her, whispered in her ear.

The nights where he stayed over, with Amelia’s consent, were sometimes sleepless because she was distracted by the warm lines of his body pressed against hers. Sometimes he would bury his face in the crook of her neck and hold her tight, his breath ghosting over her skin making her shiver.

More than once, because she only confessed the once to her roommate to satisfy the older girl’s curiosity, Serge had kissed her until she felt like her whole body tingled from his touch. It never went farther than that, though she felt almost certain that Serge wanted to.

He never pushed, not once.

Amelia had smiled at that when she’d finally gave in and consulted the carrot top wizardess, reached out and squeezed her hands gently when she’d stuttered out her question.

“Well, if you’re really comfortable with it and want to experiment there’s a shop you can go to on the next Field Day.” Her roommate snatched up a piece of blank parchment and quickly wrote something down before passing it over.

From the name, she wondered if it was a boutique and what the prices were.

“Go there, I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll love.” Amelia winked, a grin making itself apparent on her face.

Staring at the front of the store, feeling the heat in her cheeks, Eleanor wondered if she could really do this.

-

The interior wasn’t anywhere near as bad as she expected. It was nearly the opposite, in fact. Models and hangers displayed some of the articles the store had to offer - soft-looking chemises that made her pause and consider them, teddies that revealed more on the mannequins than they would on her though it raised heat to her face all the same.

A soft-spoken clerk asked if she was alright and she nodded quickly, ducking her head and walking over to another section to hide her embarrassment.

She regretted not asking Amelia what might look best, though she had the suspicion her friend would have said to go with her gut instinct.

Something white caught her eye and she turned, blinking at the unassuming garment. It looked light and easy to wear, sheer bodice held together by thin white ribbon, shoulder straps thin and lacy with small white bows. It ended in a short skirt of ruffles that might come to the tops of her thighs so long as she didn’t stretch.

Lifting a hand, she carefully touched the fabric. It felt soft and cool against her skin, drawing her lips up into a tiny smile as she looked it over.

 _Serge might like it_ , she thought. If she could find the courage to wear it.

She was about to lift the hanger when a piece of darker clothing made her turn her head, eyes widening at the sight.

It was maroon in color, a simple halter-top kind of bodice that, like the white one, would perhaps just graze the tops of her thighs. It had no ruffles though, just a long split up the sides stopping just under the bust, a plunging neckline that left only a little to the imagination. It came with underwear, similar in color and just enough to cover what was essential.

But… it was pretty. She liked the color and how soft it looked, wondered how it might look on her. Perhaps, if she let her hair down it would work.

The idea was tempting. Just enough that she skimmed her fingers over the hanger before lifting it gently to hold with the white outfit.

Turning around, still smiling to herself, she started for the cashier’s counter with the outfits carefully draped over her arm. She skirted around another customer browsing through a selection of camisoles in pastel colors, halting when she saw a mannequin set up near the counter. It wore a pale pink babydoll, straps just slender ties that, if undone, would let the fabric slip off right off - or so it seemed.

The skirt was longer, hemmed in a whimsical lacy style, cut of the bust not as deep as the maroon babydoll she had folded over one arm. It was simple and pretty, the pink shade reminded her of Serge’s soft, curly hair when the sun touched it.

It wasn’t too hard of a decision. She had enough, surprisingly, and it only took a quick word with a clerk - soon enough her purchases were rung up and paid for. She took the bag with a quick thank you, grateful for the inconspicuous design as she headed through town.

-

“Have a good night.” Amelia spared him a wink as she took her change of clothes with her to a friend’s room, a little skip in her step as she left.

He paused, looking around for any sign of Eleanor. Amelia’s bed was made, neat and trim. Eleanor’s blankets were turned down in one corner and he assumed she might be in the bathroom. He toed off his shoes by the balcony, smiling as Taffy waddled over to the little bed Eleanor made for him in the dresser.

His familiar snuggled down into the soft bedding with a sigh, closing button eyes in pleasure. It made him smile to see Taffy so content. Taking a chance himself, he took a seat on his Buddy’s covers and shrugged off his jacket, stroking the head of his little doll that his grandmother had given him.

A door clicked open and he looked up, a smile stretching over his mouth. A familiar head of brown hair peeked into the room, soft pink eyes glancing his way before averting them. The door blocked him from seeing anything but her face and it made him tilt his head curiously.

“Eleanor? Is everything alright?” Leaning his weight on his knees, he started to get up when she ducked out of sight. Hesitating, he glanced at Taffy’s sleeping form. Flexing his fingers, he pushed himself up, taking slow steps towards the bathroom door.

He meant to knock, not too hard or too light, just to see if she would answer. If she was okay.

The door opened before he could, freezing him in place with a hand in the air.

Eleanor, his Buddy, his precious girl shuffled her feet on the tile of the bathroom wearing nothing but a soft, pale pink babydoll. There were ruffles, he noted between the surprise and flush of heat overtaking his senses. Tiny ruffles over the bust, fabric held up by slim, were those ribbons?, of cloth tied in bows.

He was gaping, he had to be because he couldn’t quite feel his jaw right then. His face felt hot, but hers was a dark pink too.

“I-I wanted to surprise you.” Her voice was small, eyes darting up towards his face before she looked away. She was fidgeting with her hands, the skirt of the babydoll swaying as she moved. “I thought.. I thought if I looked more mature you… you might…”

“Eleanor.” He said it softly, gently, reaching out to cup her face as she peeked up at him. Her skin was so soft and warm under his fingertips and she looked so shy and sweet standing there.

Leaning in, he kissed her forehead gently, closing his eyes. When he breathed in, she smelled sweet, vaguely like primroses.

“I love you, Eleanor. You are more than mature enough for me.” He murmured against her skin, relishing the feeling of holding her so close. “You’re beautiful.”

He felt her fingers, warm and slim, slowly curl into the fabric of his shirt and her form press softly against him.

“I love you too.” She whispered, and he thought he could hear her smile.


	76. Intervene - Elias & Mami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't want to see her hurt. Not again.

“Mami, what did I tell you about getting involved in dangerous things?” Elias doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but it happens anyway towards the end of the sentence. He knows he sounds angry and he dislikes that because he’s just worried.

She looks at him calmly, much more calmly than he’d expected her too - the conversation so similar to one they’d had years ago, during her Trial. As Buddies, rather than husband and wife.

“Elias, I can’t just sit and not do anything. It’s my hometown.” There’s no admonishment in her tone, her movements are quick and efficient as always as she packs.

Most of it is medicine, some of it magical in nature and some of it not.

She packs a change of clothes as an afterthought.

“I know it is but we don’t know how bad the conditions are. If the fire spreads too far then the train won’t be able to take you there.” He moves to intercept her, catch her hands before she can pick up any more bandages or vials of lavender.

Her skin is warm on his, her fingers squeeze his but he doesn’t let her slip away. Finally she goes still, looking him in the eye as he tries to put his words together.

“You can’t fly there. It’ll be too dangerous.” He can see the determination in her eyes, knows that with a word she could ask him to stand back. But she doesn’t.

Elias takes the chance to slip a hand over her back, drawing her close because he is afraid.

Along her back, in a curving arc, is a scar from the chimera’s claws. He remembers it well and how weak he’d been, holding her as she bled out in his arms.

“I’m going with you.”


	77. Waiting in the rain - Anima & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting to meet up.

There is a long, quiet moment where she thinks he will not be coming. The rain is pounding down against the stones and the river is swollen wide with overflow. She would not blame him, if he decided to reconsider.

She would do her best not to, she swears to herself.

The weather is ever a fickle mistress, even to those trained in magic to influence it and the natural world has more influence than anyone else. So for it to rain, and to come down like this, is no one’s fault.

She watches the roads anyway, because he isn’t a man to break his promises. To jibe and insult yes, but never to break.

A hand on her shoulder wakes her up, jostling her gently and there is a wetness soaking into her coat as she struggles to open her eyes. For a moment there is only a dark blur in the shape of a person before her, resolving into that of a man once she’d blinked several times.

There’s concern on his face as he peels off a sodden glove to check her temperature, though it can’t be much good since his skin has a chill from the rain.

“How long have you been out here, you moron? Are you trying to get out of me meeting your father by falling ill?” His voice has a growl to it that she likes, even if she’ll never say it out loud.

She leans into him, ignoring the rainwater clinging to his clothes, dripping from his hair. Winds her arms around his chest and holds him long enough that his protests subside and he is returning the embrace.

“I was waiting for you. To see if you would come.” The words are muffled against his clothes but his scoff assures her that he heard.

“Of course I would, Bunnyhead. You’re a fool for thinking a little water would keep me away.” His fingers brush against her bound hair gently and she wishes he would unwind the tight braids and run his fingers through them until they were loose and wavy again.

“My father is worse than a little water, Klaus. He did raise me, after all.” She pushes back, looking up at his face in time to catch a shadow pass over his expression.

It is banished when he smiles, deliberate and too sweet.

“Then I will have to be the best.”


	78. News - Anima & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A follow up to a previous chapter, Undone, because it needed to be done.

Rather than going to his office like she wants to, Anima waits until she hears him step into the house, a breeze following him in with eager fingers and bringing in the scent of the outside. He lingers in the entryway, likely toeing off his shoes and setting his coat on the hook. She counts up to fifteen in her head before his footsteps come further inside but focuses on her tea until he brushes her hair from her face, lightly presses his lips against her temple.

“You aren’t in your office.” He murmurs, curiosity in his tone and he doesn’t immediately pull away after he speaks. His fingers are warm and strong in her hair, toying with the long strands the same way he does when they are drifting off to sleep.

“I finished early today. Gretchen will have received the report by early morning and until then there’s nothing to do but wait.” Turning her head, she surprised him with a kiss.

It didn’t last long. Soon enough he was kissing her back, slow and with a faint hum of pleasure, pads of his fingers rubbing over a small section of her scalp.

When they parted he looked more relaxed, a faint gleam in his eye that she knew well. Instead of acknowledging it, she shifts to set the steaming teacup aside before it can spill. Burning herself wouldn’t be a very appropriate thing to do - let him interpret it as he wished.

“I have something to tell you, Klaus.” Keeping her tone light, she faced him again and watched his brow furrow as he picked apart what she might have meant with such a statement.

“Something with your studies then?” He moved, no longer leaning over her but taking a seat on the ottoman. He was still taller, broader, but the trail of his fingers over the back of her hand was gentle. “Are you going to be traveling again?”

He said it so easily, but she knew he disliked it when she went out of the country.

A smile turned her mouth upward, she felt her shoulders relax a little as she thought about the truth. Part of her still despised the bottled potions and elixirs, the pills and treatments. But it would be worth it, every bit of it, if things continued on their current course.

“I won’t be traveling for a while. Not for work at least.” She tucked her hair back, finding the words catching in her throat.

She’d thought of so many ways to say it. To tell him.

Before he could ask why, even though she saw the question building in his features, mixing with concern - she did take her work seriously, after all - it came falling out. Simple, without any flourish except tenuous joy.

And hope.

“I’m pregnant, Klaus. It’s.. I-It’s really happening.” Her voice cracked a little, but she couldn’t be bothered to hate it. Not when he looked shocked, giving way to realization and finally, joy.

She laughed when he hugged her, tight but gentle, one hand at the back of her head as he held her. His breath sounded shaky, like hers had when she’d finally gotten the results, the news - the relief sharp and heady and sweet after the roiling sickness of dread that had lasted for so long in waiting.


	79. Assorted Flavors - Klaus Goldstein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus organizing his tea.

In a rare moment of downtime, he made the decision to go through his tea leaves. It helped make sure that nothing went to waste and, if he were to be perfectly honest, he didn’t usually have such a surplus as to forget about one or the other. Soon enough the office was filled with the muted sounds of rustling and the occasional ‘clink’ as he set things aside. Opening one tin’s lid Klaus peered inside curiously.

The scent of chamomile greeted his nose, slightly milder than he remembered. It had been a gift from Professor Merkulova, he recalled, the man stating that he sometimes worried for the long hours Klaus kept as the sole Prefect of the Academy. A considerate enough gesture, he supposed, but he didn’t often drink chamomile – it was, after all, a relaxant and he couldn’t get his work done if he fell asleep atop his papers.

He replaced the lid after checking the leaves, setting it aside to reach for another. A variant black tea, he couldn’t think of the name right then but the fragrance was still decently strong. Another was more citrus based, the sharpness of it stinging his nose just a little when he sniffed.

It pushed aside the softer scent of chamomile that had been clinging to his senses and he felt himself wake up a little.

Turning his head, he glanced outside. The sun was still a ways from setting but it was no longer noon – brewing a cup now could provide enough of a boost to keep him going through til evening. Klaus turned the idea around in his mind, calculating all that remained to be done for the day. There was still the annual budget for the boy’s dorm, waiting like a patient, lurking giant on his desk. Somewhere underneath that was a note from Schuyler, either pertaining to absences or a request for him to speak to his little brother about a certain incident the week before.

It bothered him that he could not, however he tried, remember which it was.

First, he would finish organizing. It did no good to leave a job half-finished, especially when it came to his tea. He sorted them by name, color, and date – eyeing them critically for a long moment afterwards to be sure he hadn’t put something out of order. Once he was satisfied, he began the process of brewing a fresh pot.

It was soothing in a way few things were to him – the soft slosh of the water when he poured it and the gentle sound it made when it started to boil. The initial puff of steam when he exposed the hot water to the open air and exposed the leaves to bring out their flavor, scents trailing up to his nose when he inhaled the aroma of a fresh cup.

Adding in his preferred amount of sugar, he stirred it to help it dissolve, practiced enough long before now to not scrape the spoon against the cup or clink it against the sides. It was a sure way to ruin the tea, in his opinion, and the relaxed mood he’d just settled into.

The first sip spread over his tongue with a welcome heat and sweetness. He closed his eyes to savor it, feeling the steam tickle his cheeks with the tilt of the cup. A small noise of satisfaction, of pleasure, left him when he set the cup back in its saucer – opening his eyes to look out the window once more without any specific goal or thought in mind.

It really did wonders for his mood - a moment of peace and quiet and a hot cup of tea.


	80. Measuring Sweetness - Delia Ritter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia bakes things for her friends.

The housemother had a cookbook that listed different recipes than the ones her mother had made and she found the slight alterations somewhat interesting. Clover honey rather than the local jars she’d had at home, or the ones she’d made herself once she had successfully raised her own bees. It would have to do, since she hadn’t brought any of her own from home and it wouldn’t be very practical for her to just skip school for a six or so hour ride home and then another back. Delia let herself laugh at the thought, gently beating the eggs with a whisk in tight, practiced circles until they were a pale, creamy yellow.

Luckily there was enough excess in the dorm pantry that the housemother didn’t mind if she made something.

Checking the book just to make sure of the next few steps she added a bit of cinnamon and a pitch of nutmeg to the flour before she started mixing. The oven was warm, enough that she could feel it against her side when she walked by to grab a baking sheet. There wasn’t one for what she’d intended, but she figured a cupcake pan would be an acceptable substitute. Once she’d added the paper cups she found on a shelf to make sure the cakes wouldn’t stick to it she started to scoop the batter in.

Like this, she’d wind up with a surplus since the pan only had space for twelve cupcakes- three for each of her friends, Amelia included, and if nothing else she could use a shallow pan to make a small cake out of the rest.

Making sure each cup was filled only part of the way with batter, she estimated the amount of batter left versus the honey she could use. With a shallow pan, like she’d thought, there would be enough to split among her professors – if they liked sweets that was. Professor Merkulova might, as she’d sometimes caught a whiff of sugar from the cracked door of his office.

It would also be enough for a potion to be set aside for her Wing Rabbit familiar, whenever the large, fluffy creature decided to show itself again. The last she’d seen of it had been the previous night, when it had poked at her cheek and thumped its big feet by her head until she’d gotten up to let it out. It had never said why it wanted so badly to go out, or when it would be back, but she still felt its magic nearby so she figured all must be well.

It took a minute of opening cabinet doors to find the right size pan, but she dusted it with flour and poured the remaining batter into it, smoothing it out with a wooden spoon. Then she took a spoon and opened one of the jars of honey, carefully drizzling a slight amount into each cupcake and a little more than that into the bigger pan. It was a trick her mother had taught her – rather than adding much sugar to the batter, the honey would sweeten everything on its own.

It just meant that you couldn’t add too much, or it would be too heavy and the batter would bake unevenly.

She left the spoon in the jar and slid oven mitts over her hands, opening the oven’s door to ease the pans inside. The rush of hot air left her blinking and glad she hadn’t worn the glasses the Headmaster had gifted her with, fogged lenses weren’t very ideal for cooking and she didn’t want to think that they might’ve slid down her nose enough to fall.

Closing the door and sliding off the mitts, she picked up the timer and turned it, the ticking sound reassuring her that it was working.

That done, all she really had to do was clean up a little and wait.

When the timer went off she closed her textbook and eased out of her chair, opening the oven’s door just enough to peek inside before doing anything else. Satisfied, turning off the oven and sliding the oven mitts back on, she drew the pans out and set them aside to cool. The cupcakes had puffed up just short of spilling over their paper holders, tops a golden color that was just lighter than the faint trails of honey she could still see. The cake in the circular pan was much the same, the insides leaving only a few crumbs of baked cake clinging to the toothpicks she inserted into the center.

She tested the cupcakes too, pleased when the result was the same.

If she’d made them like she usually did back home then a honey glaze would have topped the dessert off, but that seemed too messy for ease between classes. She also figured that Elias wouldn’t appreciate it, since he always kept his things impeccably tidy.

Regular icing might be too heavy to go well with it but maybe…

She tugged the book she’d used off the shelf again, flipping through its pages until she found what she was looking for. Whipped topping on its own was light, and shouldn’t contrast too much with the cake. She could add something to make it a little less sweet. Maybe some coloring too.

She’d hold off on that, just in case, turning towards the cabinets again to pull out what she needed before going for the ingredients.

The cakes were cool by the time she finished, pleasantly firm when she tested a couple for any lingering heat that might melt the topping. She scooped the whipped icing into the bag, tying it off and beginning to squeeze the end of the bag. Each cupcake got a spiral of icing to top it off, some of them had a little curl when she lifted the icing bag away. She eased the round cake out of its pan and cut it into fourths, sliding three pieces into a small confection box she’d prepared and topping those off with a little flourish.

The fourth was put on a saucer and she drew a somewhat sloppy Wing Rabbit on it, grinning to herself when she lowered the bag to admire her handiwork. It made her laugh, because it really was a little terrible. Part of her wondered if her familiar would complain about it, but she pushed the thought away with a tiny chuckle.

If the chubby rabbit didn’t like it, she could always say she wouldn’t make any more sweets.

Cleaning up again was easy after that, now that she had an idea where everything was. The cupcakes for Yukiya, Elias and Luca she set in collapsible confection boxes and closed off. She’d hand them out before class and perhaps visit the professors after classes were over for the day.

It seemed better than bothering them right before class, anyway.

Sliding her textbook and the homework stuck between its pages back into her bag, she eased it onto one shoulder and carefully gathering up the sweets she’d made. It made for an interesting trip up the stairs, but thankfully she managed to avoid any casualties. Amelia’s eyes had gone a little round in surprise when she’d opened the door for her, but she’d been happy to accept her own box of cupcakes.

The carrot top upperclassman had eager bit into one, even though dinner was only an hour and a half away. Watching the happiness spread over the other girl’s face brought a smile to her own, so she couldn’t really mean it when she told the older girl that she was going to spoil her appetite.


	81. Adjustments - Elias & Mami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias keeps getting distracted and he doesn't know why.

There was something wrong with him, he was sure. He couldn’t focus and when he went to write something down it fled his mind before he could fully capture the thought. It left his pen hovering, indecisive, above the page and he couldn’t help but scowl at himself. His gaze slid off the nearly blank parchment, going past Headmaster Randolph and towards a desk across the room. It happened, with increasing frequency he noted, that his eyes would settle on Mami Hinters and he wouldn’t be able to immediately look away.

Elias grew increasingly frustrated with himself as a reason failed to come to him to explain this behavior.

Instead, other things invaded his mind. Questions that he’d never given thought to before, least of all with _her_ as the subject.

Had she done something with her hair? Was that what was distracting him so?

He couldn’t recall her making any particularly noteworthy change of appearance – barring the day she’d braided her hair with white ribbon. It’d looked nice, he remembered admitting to her, and she’d shown a greater spark of confidence than usual when he’d mentioned it.

Her hair _was_ up today, but as some form of bun rather than twin braids. It still looked nice, actually giving her more of a mature look than normal.

Elias blinked, missing part of the Headmaster’s lecture as he wondered at himself.

Since when did he care what Mami looked like, or how she styled her hair? Since when had she been able to distract him so much from taking notes without seemingly changing a thing?

It was ridiculous, that’s what it was, and it needed to stop _this instant_.

Shaking his head, hopefully rattling the absent musings out for good, Elias straightened in his seat and forced his attention back on the Headmaster. He’d missed some crucial points of the lecture, true, but felt confident that he could find out the rest by parsing what he had together after class. He’d go to the library and find the correct book or books, fill out the blanks from there. And then, he’d be completely caught up – no gaps or interruptions at all.

He did not, even to himself, admit that he took several small glances at Hinters from beneath his lashes for the rest of class. He was just staring into space, that was all.


	82. Viewing Oneself - Luca Orlem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luca and the Persona Mirror

It wasn’t often that Mami left her bag behind, especially if Elias had a study session for them planned afterwards. Easing himself into the empty classroom, Luca scrutinized the bag for a moment before he opened it, chuckling at the books and papers carefully stashed inside. She really was a hard worker, he mused, one pale finger tipping a textbook aside so he could peer at her notes. Her letters slanted a little towards the left when she wrote, but the script was neat enough to be read easily. She’d scribbled things in the margins, presumably questions she’d meant to ask in class or Elias when they met up for cramming.

“Cute.” The mutter left him softly, just a little cynical even to his own ears. He was about to call it quits when his fingers touched something that wasn’t a book or parchment, soft cloth that was definitely velvet giving beneath his fingertips until he felt something hard underneath.

Curious, he tugged it out, tilting the object a couple of times before he found which way it was supposed to face. The cloth wrapping wasn’t secured at all besides being wrapped carefully over whatever was inside, he was surprised to see something golden peek out when he loosened the folds.

Mami brought something valuable to class and then forgot it?

It was a mirror, he saw that once the velvet wrapping was tugged free, just large enough to hold comfortably in both hands or one, if it was tilted just right. The border was delicate and intricate scroll work, he wasn’t sure if it was actual gold or just plated or colored to look like it but the glass of the mirror itself was spotless, peculiarly clear when he peered into it. Strings were looped through a small hole on one end, capped off with decorative (he assumed) metal.

The mirror started to give off a dull glow when he looked into it, his reflection’s eyes widening in time with his own.

A voice, his voice, came out of the mirror – just loud enough for him to hear.

 _“I envy Elias for all that he has and I want to hate him for not paying better attention to it. I want that, a family, someone who looks at me the way Ma - “_ it stopped when he shoved it face-down into the velvet he’d found it in, part of him desperately wishing he’d thrown it away, at the wall maybe, like he’d wanted to.

Chances were it wouldn’t have even cracked if he had, considering who made it.

His lips twisted into a self-depreciating smile, palm of his hand pressing on the back of the mirror like it was a beast he had to restrain.

How could he not have recognized it? There was only one such mirror in the whole world, only two mirrors in the Academy that were mentioned by name, and he’d already seen the other.

The Persona Mirror, invented by Walter Goldstein. Created initially to expose criminals and their guilt, it’d been deemed too dangerous (or something) to allow in the public’s hands. The Headmaster of the Academy had been given it at some point and it was supposed to be locked within his office at all times, guarded by layers of spells only someone truly desperate, or stupid, would attempt to unravel.

And here it was, gradually absorbing heat from his hand, previously tucked into Mami Hinters’ schoolbag like a poorly kept secret.

 _She really did it_ , he thought belatedly, not quite in a daze.

He hadn’t quite believed her when she’d said it, even though he hadn’t seen any tell-tale signs of a lie in her expression when she’d told him. It just seemed so… impossible. No one, that he knew of, had ever tried to steal it – obviously they’d never succeeded even if they had. And she wasn’t that skilled in magic, not by his or Elias’ standards – certainly not to the level that would be required to break the seals that were supposed to protect it.

Then how? How had she done it?

The question nagged at him, part of him wondering, on the extremely off chance, if the object under his palm was an elaborate forgery. He doubted it though, because Mami had shown no real interest, or talent, with magical tools – nor had she ever mentioned anything like wanting to make one.

Which meant this was the genuine article. The fact that he could still hear his own voice speaking to him, clear and painfully honest, as if the mirror were still reflecting his thoughts, lent credence to that.

His hands were shaking, he realized. His stomach shifted uncomfortably, as put-off by that revelation as it had been by the mirror exposing what he didn’t want to admit.

He could tell himself it was a lie. He could. It might even be easy, because he was very, very good at spinning a tale when he wanted to be.

But it would be just that – a lie.

He’d know it. Did know it, even now.

And he couldn’t convince himself to actually do it, now that the mirror had revealed the truth.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted the mirror and kept it face down as he straightened out the velvet to wrap it up again. Mami would come back for her bag, he reasoned, and if she found him going through her things it would just be a mess. He made extra sure that the glass was covered before he turned it over to continue wrapping it, the more layers between him and it making a small, childish part of him feel a little bit better.

Slipping it back into place where he’d found it, he closed up Mami’s bag and forced his feet to move for the window he’d used to climb in. The late breeze felt welcome on his skin and he pretended not to feel the remaining quiver in his fingertips as he hoisted himself up and out onto the lawn. He’d find something to occupy the next few hours, some kind of distraction to push the experience from his mind – and what else the mirror might have said if he’d kept staring at it. Patting his sides, he lamented that he didn’t have his sketchbook. The lake would’ve been a welcome place to hide for a while if he’d thought to bring his book and pencils along.

He didn’t feel like scouring the archives right then, too shaken even still to imagine reading would make the sourness in his stomach go away. His feet turned then, taking him down a different section of the path. The greenhouse looked inviting enough, the trails were long and meandering enough that he might be able to keep busy until… whenever, he supposed.

The door opened at a touch, and he purposely tried to lose himself amongst the greenery.


	83. Nettles for cruelty - Anima & Magnus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love? That might not be the feeling between father and daughter.

Valencia died in childbirth, they tell him when he arrives. The child, his child, survives and is healthy. A girl. There is disappointment, a son would have been preferable – easy to train and study and push towards a specific goal. But, this little one is the only success thus far and however much it may not be what he’d wanted, it is a victory nonetheless. The maid brings him to the child after he has seen what remains of his wife – the funeral will be handled in due time yes, but while the ink dries on the parchment he peers down at the little bundle that is his legacy.

She is small, his child, smaller than he’d hoped. What hair she has is thin, likely to fall out as is the case with infants. He does not touch her except to lift one of her tiny hands and guide a delicate finger to uncurl. Her fingers twitch in response but she doesn’t fuss. When he pricks her finger she opens her eyes, pudgy face struggling to arrange itself from confusion to the acknowledgement of an unfamiliar pain.

The irises of her eyes are a dark, steely color. He has heard that it will take weeks for them to settle into a proper color, but her glare is poignant enough to send his lips curving into a thin smile.

“You are going to be a stubborn lass aren’t you?” He murmurs into the quiet, spreading the bead of her blood over a thin tablet. The symbols etched on its surface shimmer in some places, brighter than he’d expected in some, unresponsive in others.

Even with such a test, it will still take years for her magical talent to develop properly.

He’s been this patient. Now that there is a possibility before him, he can wait a while longer.

“Surprise me, Anima.” A touch of the pad of his finger to her soft brow puts her to sleep, the spell just strong enough to work without causing harm. A murmur and the insignificant prick on her finger is gone, he is left with a sleeping infant and all the potential her fragile body holds.

A daughter. Of all the outcomes, it could be the most troublesome.

But it is a challenge, and that will be enough.

-

His child is a curious one, even before she can read. Her little hands grasp at his papers when he visits, the maids dismissed until he calls for them again. Anima’s mouth smacks a little as she tries to speak and he spends much of his time untangling her fingers from his long hair and salvaging his work. She reacts to magic acutely, following the sound of his voice or the flickering half-light of his fingers or wand with an intense stare.

Her first spell is an accident – a primitive one that sends a gale through the sitting room and overturns several articles of furniture.

She is puzzled in the aftermath, unsure why the maid shudders on the floor, decidedly windswept and he dismisses the woman in favor of handling it himself.

“Above all else, control is most important.” He says, combing the tangles from her hair himself. She nods, only three and a half and her hair has grown long – dark purple as her mother’s was but her eyes are his. She is a stubborn child but her ear perks to the sound of his voice and he can see the gears turn in her little skull when he instructs her.

“What you feel will bring the spell to life. Letting it rule you is a sign of weakness.” He ties the ribbon in place, watching her stare hard at him through the mirror as if that will help her focus. He stares back, tone cool as a breeze and soft as velvet. “You will mind your temper the next time, will you not?”

Her head bobs in a nod, vigorous enough that the ribbon slips out of place.

He suspects she does it on purpose, so that he will fix it.

-

She struggles with a portion of the diagrams he sets before her at five and six, still childish enough that her brows draw furrows across her forehead when she scrunches them in building frustration. It has been less than an hour, but he has not responded to her few inquiries about the exercise. The tip of her pen scratches softly over the parchment, not as quickly as before and he keeps his eyes on his own work rather than watch her progress.

There is a spoiled streak in her that he means to break, by one way or another.

She finally gives up a little later, setting down her pen and he feels her gaze linger in his direction for several moments before she speaks.

“I can’t do these.” Her voice is low, more than a little petulant and somewhat angry.

He doesn’t look up, continuing another part of his report.

Silence stretches between them and the backing of the chair makes the rustle of her clothes seem that much louder in the room. He senses that there are other things she wishes to say and pays it no mind, until she interrupts him again.

“Father, I – “

“’Can’t’ is not a word I would have you use.” She goes very still when he speaks over her, even though he hasn’t raised his voice past just below normal volume of speech. “Either say you ‘cannot’ or do not speak unless you find a suitable substitute.”

For a moment, he thinks he hears the harsh crinkle of paper.

When he glances up over the rim of his glasses, her face is warring with itself. There is pride, young and childish yes, but present. But there is also uncertainty and a disbelief in how she looks at him. He shows her nothing, indifferent as she chooses what to say.

“I cannot get past these.” She finally says, hesitantly pushing the papers forward.

He has to set aside his own work and stand to look at them, but her progress is interesting to see. The circle is off, drawn too heavily and in a wobbling hand, yet she’d remembered the basics of the Binding Magic.

A tap of his finger and the ink recedes, leaving only blankness behind. He pushes it towards her, ignoring whatever look she sends his way as he walks back to his desk.

“Repeat the exercise until you have learned the beginning four steps. You may not leave until you do.”

As he sits and lifts his own pen once more his senses catch the brief fluctuation of her magic.

He waits, but there is no primitive spell to wreak havoc unto the room.

He’s well into the fifth paragraph before his ears catch the scratching of her pen.

-

At eight she takes to wearing a yellow ribbon in her hair. He notices it almost immediately due to its color – pale enough that it might be mistaken for another shade at first glance, but yellow nonetheless. A bit darker and it would clash considerably worse. It’s obvious that she tied it herself, as it sits somewhat crookedly and the hair is bunched awkwardly where it is tied. She touches it on occasion, her eyes sliding towards a window if one is near and he wonders at the odd behavior.

“Succumbed to girlish vanity, have you?” He prompts when her mind wanders elsewhere, the pen in her hand hovering without actually touching the parchment she’s meant to be furthering her studies on.

There’s a flush rising to her cheeks almost instantly, but it is the brief, sharp glance she spares him that draws his curiosity the most.

When she speaks her tone is grudging, as if reluctant to part with the words she chooses.

“There was a boy who said I couldn’t wear yellow because it looked ugly with my hair’s color.” Her lips purse, but she straightens her shoulders and back with a feminine sort of pride. “I aim to prove him wrong.”

“What boy?” He asks softly, adding another set of figures to the page before him. She has his interest and her own shows clear as day.

“The gardener’s boy. He helps in the early morning.” She begins to write, slowly, but her mind is not entirely on the exercise. The next words are softer because she mumbles them. “He says he wants to plant roses.”

He feels his expression slip for the briefest second, but she doesn’t see because the work has taken her attention off of ribbons and colors and boys who want to plant disgusting things such as roses in the gardens.

If he finds them, even one, he swears to burn them.

-

At thirteen she has surpassed some of his expectations – her magic is well-suited for the training he’s given her and she is something of a recluse when it comes to the social gatherings of their class. He watches her make conversation with girls of other families that are close to or younger than her age. She speaks well and without excess dramatization, yet her tendency to find unexpected hiding places after the initial three hours is simultaneously amusing and bothersome.

Clever girl, she is – but not yet brave enough to quit the room entirely when in an unfamiliar location.

Yellow has worked its way into more of her things, accents where there had been only those chosen by a maid or an expected event and once he’d found her sneaking in from the garden slick with mud. She’d frozen at the sight of him, fear broad as daylight across her face before she tried to marshal it into blankness.

For her age, the effort was commendable.

“Joined the worms in the filth, have we?” It didn’t take much to guess what she’d been up to, or who with. She’d flinched only a little at his tone.

“It was a game. Nothing more.” She was much better at sounding unaffected than she was looking it, he could give her that.

“Get cleaned up. There will be no further nonsense today.” She’d trekked off at the warning quickly enough. When she did emerge again, there was something else to go along with the ribbon she’d taken to having in her hair.

Small. Not a full bloom, not yet. A pink rose, petals only just beginning to unfurl.

He’d removed it from her hair when she sat, ignoring the protests she made.

 _“Flau.”_ It left him in a hiss, more evident than he’d wanted but it was satisfying to see the thing smolder into ash.

Anima stared at him and it was the most recent she’d been brave enough to show real anger towards him.

-

The plants were still small, obviously freshly planted. Healthy enough, he supposed, for such a flower.

The roses stank when they burned.

He made sure to burn each plant down to the root.

-

“I hate you.” She said to him, angry and hurt – not just for the rose in her hair or the ones in the gardens. He’d fired the boy’s father, and they’d departed that morning.

“You do not know the meaning of that sentiment.” He responded coolly, shutting down her small tantrum before it could begin.


	84. Go Together - Anima & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a tumblr writing prompt: #16 “If you want, we could go together?”

His hand was clenched when she reached for it, hesitating just before actually making contact. At her touch his fingers uncurled a little, enough that she could slide her fingers slowly between his. He was warm on a normal, good day. At the moment however, she couldn’t help but feel that his hand was too warm.

Klaus used his free hand to rub at his eyes, attempting to hide his scowl as the motion spread to his mouth as well - like he wanted to wipe the expression from existence. The digits she’d entwined hers with slowly squeezed, she returned the gesture once he’d let out a slow, shaky exhale.

She didn’t ask about the letter, open before them on his desk. Or the smaller envelope that had come with it, the black wax of the seal familiar even if she had never lost someone particularly close to her before.

“It wasn’t your fault, Klaus.” Keeping her voice soft, she tried to sound comforting. It was.. odd, which likely made her attempt sound awkward to him.

“I should have been there.” His voice was still low, rough with what she’d learned was suppressed grief. And anger. “I could have done something.”

Even as he said it, his shoulders weren’t at their usual angle of straightness. His back wasn’t straight, just slightly slumped. He leaned, ever so slightly, into her and she leaned in to support him.

Several things came to mind - varying from empty reassurances to practical logic. The branch of the Ministry of Magic which dealt with dark magic cases was one of the most dangerous; no guarantee of safety or that help might be able to arrive in time should things go wrong.

It was, as he’d told her before, part of the job.

And it seemed too cruel to give those words back, when he’d known the man in question for several years. When a woman and child had been left behind, unable to receive closure of a proper burial.

“If..” She stopped, throat tightening as doubt grasped at her vocal cords. Nonetheless, he turned his head enough to look at her, a flicker of curiosity in otherwise hard eyes. She shook off the nerves holding her back, squeezing his hand once more as she met his gaze. “If you want, we could go together?”

He wouldn’t be alone then, even amongst his colleagues and other friends. She could support him when he wouldn’t allow himself to weak in front of others.

It was there, a small light in his eyes, a hint of a grateful smile on his lips.

Klaus squeezed her hand back.


	85. Not Lost - Mami, Elias, Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the writing prompt on tumblr: 28. “I didn’t lose it, I just misplaced it.”

The rustling of papers finally stopped, though he was no closer to locating the documents he’d been looking for during the past twenty minutes. In truth, it might have been a miracle to even find them, cluttered as his desk was at the current moment. Fatigue prickled his eyes, made worse when he rubbed them, and he caught the lack of sound from the other parts of his office as a sign that Elias and his girlfriend had stopped their search as well.

He hadn’t even intended to accept their help, the mumbled ‘fine’ had tumbled out before he’d thought to stop it – after that there hadn’t been much point in taking it back. Elias knew him well enough by now to be able to go through his filing system – Mami on the other hand, he hadn’t been entirely sure about.

But she had helped, even surpassed his initial expectations by setting things in the order he’d categorized them with. She’d even gone through the books on the shelf, put them back one at a time once she’d been assured he hadn’t (heaven’s forbid) stuck his papers in there somewhere.

“Klaus…” His little brother’s tone was doubtful, matching the look of concern that failed to fade even when he glanced Elias’ way irritably.

“I don’t think it’s here.” Mami concluded for her boyfriend, a hand settling on her hip as she took in the remaining spots of the office where his work might have been misplaced.

They’d already gone through Randy’s half of the office, to no avail.

“I didn’t lose it.” He muttered, resisting the tired urge to just toss the papers he was holding down onto the desk’s obscured surface. “It’s just misplaced.”

“We never said you lost it.” Elias’ tone shifted towards placating, and he watched his younger sibling make a turn about the room as if checking for anything they might have missed.

“Could you have left it in your dorm this morning?” When he looked at Mami, he saw concern mirroring Elias’. “You don’t look as though you’ve gotten a lot of sleep recently.”

Even with his back facing them, he saw the tips of Elias’ ears go pink, as if he were the one the words were being directed at.

“It’s not impossible.” He finally admitted, setting the documents in his hand down with a care he didn’t feel. Prefect, and he forgot, or misplaced his homework. Right before a test.

Ridiculous.

“Alright then.” She seemed to perk up at that, giving him a smile he couldn’t begin to puzzle out. “We’ll clean up here and you can head back and get some sleep.”

“Mami, you shouldn’t - “

“You seem to forget that this is my office, Hinters.” He cut Elias off. “And that I’ve yet to locate my work.”

The second-year student had the gall to roll her eyes at him – an act of defiance that left Elias briefly sputtering. For himself, Klaus only felt his irritation briefly spike.

“You’re tired. More than tired, actually. What you need is sleep, not to go hunting for your homework.” Folding her arms, Mami faced him squarely, concern taking a back seat in the firmness of her tone. “Now the question is, are you going to make me embarrass you publicly by knocking you out and carrying you to the dorm myself or are you going to be reasonable, Klaus?”

Elias’ lack of composure would have been amusing, if he’d been in the frame of mind to appreciate it.

“You couldn’t possibly do it.” He frowned at the girl, ignoring how he had to squint a little because of the headache he felt building.

“I’m willing to try.” She responded, not missing a beat.

“Mami, don’t say things like that!” Elias finally gathered enough of his sense to articulate a small portion of his thoughts, but all his girlfriend spared him was a slight frown.

He felt himself start to laugh, part of him wondering if at some point hysteria had settled in and he just hadn’t noticed. From the looks on their faces, neither Mami or Elias had been expecting such a reaction either. When he got his breath back, he fixed each of them with a look, Mami in particular since she’d so brazenly challenged him.

“Fine, this once. If I find anything out of place I’ll assign you extra homework.”

The threat seemed to have no hold on the young woman, possibly because she’d gotten him to admit defeat.

“Deal.”


	86. Ambients - Julie Phinn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riding the train to Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy, Julie can’t shake the feeling that something’s about to happen.

She was losing her own suggested card game, unable to fully concentrate as something nagged at the excited flutters in her stomach. It didn’t make the butterflies any calmer, or sour her happiness over receiving the Acceptance Letter. But it pulled her attention away from the cards in front of her, made her glance out the window at the rushing countryside – so much green, occasionally replaced by a farm or larger settlement. There was still another three hours to the trip to Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy, and she felt that if this unsettling fit of nerves continued it might make her hesitant to go through the entryway.

“Any sixes? Are you even paying attention?” The Letter huffed, straightening out its corners in offense. She thought it was also gearing itself up to lecture, which was a little cute considering its voice reminded her of a long-suffering librarian.

Quickly, she scanned the cards in her hand. Indeed, she had two of the cards the Letter had named. Giving them over meant she was now down to three, none of them matching. Flicking her wand as she muttered a soft invocation, the sixes floated up to join the long line of cards hovering gently before the Letter.

How it could perceive them when it didn’t have eyes she didn’t know, but the enchanted parchment was surprisingly good at Go Fish once she’d explained the rules.

“My turn.” She smiled when her companion waved one corner of its body, as if to say ‘yes, yes, get on with it’. Looking at her own cards, then at the bountiful supply the Letter possessed, she decided to take a chance. “Got any 3’s?”

“Bother.” Four cards drifted towards her, pulled by her own magic once the Letter admitted it possessed her quarry.

Julie felt herself grin a little as she claimed her prize, seven strong now against eight, and settled in to make this game one of her longer ones. It passed the time, after all, and she thought, but couldn’t be entirely certain, that the Acceptance Letter was gradually relaxing as they played.

Even parchment librarians couldn’t stay puffed up forever, it seemed.


	87. Pride and Joy - Anima & Drie Perrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pride goeth before a fall, or so they say. But what of pride in the only one who understands you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Jinx who requested the sisters interacting. Drie Perrill is their character.

“Hush now, or you will distract me.” The words left Anima’s lips softly, for all they were lacking any real heat to back them up. She continued to gently draw the comb through Drie’s hair, now level with her sister’s shoulder blades after starting at the ends of the dark tresses.

Where her own hair had a slight wave, admittedly from being held back for hours, Drie’s remained straight as a pin - no matter what was done to it.

“I’m sorry.” The young woman before her sighed, almost sleepily.

“No you are not.” She felt her lips quirking slightly and let it happen, expression softening as she finished her task. Separating her sibling’s hair into sections, she readied the scissors she’d recently bought.

Drie shifted a little at the sound of the shears, a faint tremor working down her slender arms that left the faint rise of gooseflesh. Anima waited until Drie settled before starting to trim the ends of her hair, letting the thoughts that circled in her mind drift into the background.

The room was silent except for them and the _snick_ of the scissors, reminding her of a time when they had recently become acquainted - when Drie had given her a most precious gift in exchange for a lock of her hair.

“Anima?” In spite of her earlier instruction, her sister turned her head, doing her best to peer over the slope of her shoulder.

She tried to keep her hold on Drie’s hair even, holding back a sigh. It was a little difficult, keeping the section of hair steady and not letting the scissors slip. “Yes, Drie?”

For a moment, there was only silence. Anima waited, straightening out the tresses between her fingers patiently.

“You aren’t bothered by me? By my dolls?” The lazy undercurrent in the elder girl’s voice could be misleading to some, Anima knew.

She hardly needed to think on her answer.

“No.” _Snick._ “You are all that someone we both know could have wanted.” _Snick._ “But you are the only one that I know how to talk to without estimating just how much to reveal.” _Snick._ The blades gleamed dully in the low light, tufts of purple drifting onto the cloth she’d spread out just for this.

“I love you as my sister.” Anima murmured, setting the shears to gradually shortening tresses. “And as my friend.”

_Snick._

“You are, after all, the only family I truly have.”


	88. The Things Desired - Mami & Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the WH Sin Week prompt: "The capacity of our wishes, who can measure?"

“Do we really need to head out now?” Mami’s voice eased his mind from his current task of straightening his cravat, prompting Elias to look past his own reflection in the mirror to watch her instead.

She wasn’t looking at him, fingers carefully smoothing out the tempered curls her hair had been worked into. Even so, she looked… Lovely, no, _beautiful_ in the gown Anima had recommended for the party. Pale pink bodice and skirt, accented with light lavender, and he thought he saw a glimpse of baby blue on her feet when she moved.

A flush rose to his cheeks, further derailing his thoughts and immediate response.

“We received the invitations a month ago.” The words left him without much thought behind them, fingers still frozen at his throat. Elias found that his eyes were still fixed on her profile - taking all of her in rather than focusing on one thing in particular.

Mami let out a soft laugh, expression hidden from him by her forearm as she moved.

“Well, that _is_ true. You ready?” She turned, surprising him with one of her small, teasing smiles.

Elias remained where he was, absently brushing his cravat down. In his head, the wheels were turning.

The party would go on for hours, opulent and ultimately tiresome. He would have to speak with people more interested in his family name and money than who he actually was, be asked to dance probably, and…

He would have almost no time to spend with her. Not to hold her as he wanted, kiss her, get her out of those pretty but confining layers.

It all hit him suddenly - a potent mix at odds with the obligation of being a Goldstein and magical tool designer. He wanted to stay, just the two of them, and undo all the hard work the maids had needed to work on them both. Wanted to unwind the sash at her waist, slide his hands over the thin fabric beneath her dress and feel the warmth of her skin.

Elias felt his mouth go dry with the sharp want of it, the greed to have her with him - only him and that they just be _alone_.

Judging by the way her expression softened, eyes warm from under her lashes, he thought she might understand - even feel the same way, maybe.


	89. Edible - Reece & Azusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the WH Sin Week prompt: “Everything in this room is edible. Even I'm edible. But, that would be called canibalism. It is looked down upon in most societies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Food might appease the body, the sanctuary of their home soothe his senses, but it hardly sates his appetite for her.

His teeth met hardly any resistance when he set them against the skin of her shoulder, baring down just enough to make her squirm. Reece made a soft noise in the back of her throat, rolling her shoulders and wiggling her hips in an attempt to dislodge him.

Azusa pulled back enough to look at the faint red mark he’d left behind, appreciating the way it looked until she turned enough to send a sidelong glance at him over her shoulder.

“I didn’t know that I should expect that from you, Azusa.” One slim brow crept up her forehead as she watched him, watched the faint smile he felt moving over his face. “Do I need to worry about you eating me in my sleep?”

“Don’t be crude.” He scoffed, settling his weight on his elbows and knees, just above her without fully touching. When he leaned just so, he could press his cheek against hers. 

“Why wait until you are asleep?” He murmured against her ear, smile widening as he felt her shiver.


	90. Cower - Anima & Drie Perrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinx's request for WH Sin week, the prompt: Wrath. Anima must defend Drie from bullies or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drie Perrill is Jinx's character.

“And you believe yourselves to be in any position to judge the worth of such an experiment? Do any of you possess even the _slightest_ amount of alchemical skill?” Her voice filled the classroom with frost - every inch of her displayed in refined edges and cultured distaste, a look alone enough to pin the students in place.

Just behind her, Drie shifted, the subtle movement alone enough to convey a budding interest in the conversation.

Anima stood her ground, spine absolutely straight and chin raised enough to convey the sense of looking down on the others. Magic swelled within the room, flickering with a deceptively soft violet light.

“You can’t seriously think her magic is worth anything - she can’t even cast a spell properly!” The girl, her uniform from a different class, started to twist her fingers nervously. Then, as though gaining courage from finally speaking her mind, she pushed herself to speak again, straightening up a little as she did. “All she ever talks about is her _dolls_. That’s it, and it’s really creepy!”

“Seriously - she doesn’t belong here.” A boy, red hair unevenly cut, glances at Drie over Anima’s shoulder. His expression isn’t kind.

Neither is Anima’s. The fluctuation of magic, not unlike the flexing of many threads, is even less so.

“My sister is a Perrill and more worthy than the likes of you to study here.” More than coldness, power laced the syllables of the words Anima spoke, turned them into weapons. “If you feel yourselves willing to test the legitimacy of that claim then face me. I will be more than pleased to demonstrate on my sister’s behalf.”

The last offender, a shorter brunette student flinched, already leaning their weight back as if to flee the room.

Anima didn’t care, magic at her fingertips and in her voice, poised to strike.


	91. Anger - Eleanor & Serge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the WH Sin Week prompt: "Anger is poison. You must purge it from your mind or else it will corrupt your better nature."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She didn't mean to be so angry.

Eleanor didn’t think that they were having any problems, not really. Yes, Serge’s Prefect duties got in the way of their plans sometimes but they usually managed to work something out around that. Even Taffy volunteered to help, carrying messages back and forth between them if she couldn’t see Serge that day.

Sometimes though.. she wished that Prefect Klaus would let Serge have the day off. Or even just an hour.

Today… Today was looking to be one of those days.

“You can’t come with us for lunch?” Eleanor found her voice slowly becoming quieter and quieter, hand frozen where she’d placed it on Serge’s sleeve. The fabric was a little soft under her fingertips, possibly from being washed often.

The smile on Serge’s face was dimmer than usual and there were the beginnings of bags under his eyes. “I’m sorry Eleanor. I know you were looking forward to having me test your new recipe..”

A flicker of guilt crossed his handsome features and he set a hand over hers, squeezing gently when she unconsciously tightened her hold.

“Next time..?” He asked, tone incredibly gentle. 

For whatever reason, it reminded her of the night when he’d told her they weren’t Buddies, that her Emblem had reacted with the real Randy March’s and that the spell which had settled over them would break soon.

It stoked a low, sickly heat in the pit of her stomach, like she’d drunk milk that might have been close to spoiling. It also brought with it the urge to ask that he stay, that he skip - by her own request, and she’d happily take the punishment.

The words were there but she pushed them back, fixing a smile onto her face.

“Okay.” That one word seemed to brighten up his whole face and Eleanor tried not to let her smile slip. “Take yours with you though - I don’t want you to forget to eat and pass out.” Letting go of his sleeve she reached into her bag and pushed the wrapped meal into his hands with a knowing look.

She loved him, his brilliant mind and sense of curiosity. But she also knew what working with him was like and that it was likely he would forget and grumble about being hungry later.

He took it with a sheepish grin, words of love and thanks on his lips before he kissed her cheek and turned to go.

Eleanor watched him go, lightly chewing on her lip as she pushed down the faint twinge of dull anger that panged in her middle.


	92. Sloth - Delia & Yukiya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the WH Sin Week prompt: “I’m not a very good sleeper. But you know what? I'm willing to put in a few extra hours every day to get better. That’s just the kind of hard worker I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s an air he carries that puts her at ease, drains the tension from her limbs and makes her worries go to sleep.

Usually on warm nights Delia can’t sleep well, if for no other particular reason than the heat that settles into everything - wrapping her up in a cocoon that she can’t escape from and making her feel like the air is like jelly, weighing her down and smothering her attempts to cool off. If she manages to stick her hands in water, pour some down the back of her neck, then she can wake up a little bit and make the effort to get things done.

The keyword there is ‘if’ and it doesn’t seem like she will be able to accomplish such a miracle today.

It’s hot but there’s no rain on the horizon, not even wisps of clouds to break the steady blue of the sky. Sometimes a weak breeze might stir the heads of the flowers outside, tempting them into a bobbing dance before the air goes too still, far too soon for any real relief to be achieved.

Even with the sun out, shining bright through their bedroom window, Delia finds it hard to move - to even entertain the notion of moving. Her senses are dull and foggy, arms loosely cradled close to her chest and legs lying crooked from where she’s been caught by her husband’s own limbs.

Yukiya is very warm - everything is warm, too warm to really be comfortable, but it makes the world feel like swimming in molasses and she’s barely awake as it is.

Wolfy is somewhere - possibly out in the yard, rolling in the grasses as it pleases him or resting by the creek that runs through the trees a little ways into the woods behind the house. If he’s there, he’ll be in the shade, content to lap up the cold water if any sense of thirst dares to bother him.

Delia thinks, sluggishly, that she should get up. At least to get a drink of water, or juice, because with weather like this she’s probably thirsty and just hasn’t processed it yet. She thinks it, manages to force her eyes into opening halfway, but for a span of time that’s about it.

The sunlight has created a brilliant square of light ahead of her, through the window. There’s the shadow of the thin curtains and they look like strange arches of some impossible bridge as she stares at them.

Leaning her weight towards the edge of the bed feels like a Herculean task and she isn’t even fully upright when Yukiya’s arm eases around her and pulls her back against his chest.

Somewhere, in the far corners of her mind, Delia wants to groan at the action. He’s warm, so very warm and everything is varyingly warm or hot and being against him is both comfortable and not all at once.

The bare skin of his chest greets her back and his legs crook themselves into hers, the arm he has around her waist is heavy and secure but it isn’t until she feels Yukiya burrow his face against her neck that she knows any further attempts at getting up are a lost cause.

He’s strong, stronger than her to be sure, but in his sleep Yukiya is infamous for clutching onto things and not releasing them until he, however grudgingly, wakes up.

And in this heat, it probably won’t be happening any time soon.

Delia feels she should protest but the thought alone is more effort than she’s willing to expend. So she closes her eyes to the arches of shadows and lace painted on the opposite wall, leans in to the feeling of her boyfriend’s skin on hers in spite of the warmth, and lets the tenuous grip she’d had on reality go - slipping from it like her hair did when Yukiya played with it, letting it run and fall between his fingers in flashes of light brown and dull blonde.

If she dreams, she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between it and waking.


	93. Sugar for the Void - Eleanor & Serge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the WH Sin Week prompt: lust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions aren’t things he knows the best, but the sweets she makes are delicious.

He takes another cupcake from the batch, not because he’s actually hungry but because he likes the feeling that rises up from some part of his chest when he carefully bites into the confection. Icing just sweet enough to compliment the cake, colored like a rosy dawn smears across his lips as he chews; his thumb wiping absently as the scattered crumbs and bits of sugar around his mouth.

The cupcake is cradled carelessly in his other hand, but his eyes are on her - why the feeling he usually gets from eating sweets is stronger when he looks in her direction confuses him, but every day she’s brought him something new and tasty so he doesn’t think there’s anything to really complain about.

Yesterday, she’d make him macaroons. 

He knew, from watching his grandmother in her shop, that macaroons were difficult to make. They required a delicate touch his grandmother hadn’t been able to sustain for very long before she’d died, but he’d loved anything and everything she’d made.

Eleanor’s candies didn’t leap or dance when you unwrapped them, didn’t sing when boxed or turn colors as someone held them up to the light, but they had to have some kind of magic in them, to taste as good as they did. Right?

Surely they did, even though he hadn’t been able to locate the spell or even guess what it was supposed to do.

But it made him feel good, just a little bit better than usual - so it had to be some sort of magic.

So he ate more, to get more of that feeling. It was addictive even if his belly was full, he felt light and his smiles came easier but it only… ever seemed to be when he was around her.

He frowned at that, not because the cupcake was disappointing, but because he couldn’t pinpoint the answer he wanted. After all, if it wasn’t magic, what could it be? Something in the ingredients?

The thought left him a moment later, because he’d found his eyes drawn to a particular spot close to Eleanor’s mouth - a smear of chocolate from her own cupcake standing out on her cheek.

Without thinking, he reached out and tilted her face towards him, held her chin steady in his free hand as he leaned close and swiped at the frosting with his tongue.

She made a very small, very confused noise. For whatever reason, he thought it was cute.

The frosting was sweet, lighter than the one on his own treat, but it mingled with the taste of her skin and became…

He didn’t know what to call it.

Eleanor continued staring at him when he finally sat back, not pushing his fingers away from her face or paying any attention to the fact that she’d forgotten her cupcake. Vanilla and yellow cake, sprinkles on the icing standing out like little gems in the sun.

He had that feeling again in his chest, warm and heady and he wanted it. Wanted more.

She still had some icing around her lips. And she didn’t stop him when he leaned in to clean it off, dropping his cupcake onto the plate beside him without a care if it actually landed safely or not.

Eleanor’s lips were soft and she tasted very sweet, he found. She was soft in general, he was discovering, hand that had been at her cheek now pressed against the back of her head and they hadn’t been this close since he’d accidentally run into her in the stairway a few days ago, Taffy’s giant form harder to control than he’d originally anticipated.

The feeling was stronger now, no longer merely warm but something heated and _wanting_ and even when he pressed their lips together again it was and wasn’t enough to satisfy.

Eleanor made another sound when he kissed her again, this was kissing, wasn’t it?; the only reason the noise even registered through the thick, heady fog he’d sunk into was the fact that her hands were on his shoulders and she was pushing _up_ rather than pulling _down_ and he thought she almost sounded a little scared.

He’d settled on top of her without realizing it, pressing her back against the grass around them and now that he noticed - 

His mouth felt tingly but his stomach was twisting and the look from Eleanor’s pink eyes made him feel hot and cold all at once.

He backed off immediately, hitting the plate with his foot and the cupcake went rolling into the grass - it hardly registered because he felt at odds with himself and didn’t know why, but he’d taken advantage of the closeness between them and that wasn’t…

That wasn’t what friends were supposed to do.

“I-I’m sorry… I don’t know what happened..” He dropped his eyes to the ground, finding it hard to think because it still felt like his head was swimming in the clouds but his stomach seemed intent on weighing him down like a stone.

He dimly heard her say something, grass and her uniform rustling as she righted herself, but all he could think about was how nice it had felt to find the source of that feeling he’d been craving - that now he could be sure it didn’t have much to do with sweets anymore.

He wanted to feel bad, but he still wanted to feel more of it.


	94. Lust - Anima & Klaus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the WH Sin Week prompt: “Those sweet lips. My, oh my, I could kiss those lips all night long."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once she’s home and within reach, he’s reminded of how much he missed her.

The only sounds in their room are from the pages of his book and the drag of the comb through her hair, drawing his eyes every so often from the text to watch the languid motions of her hands as she separated sections of her hair and carefully worked through them. It was relaxing to see her home again, to hear the faint hum of a song under her breath.

Even after three years he’d never been able to learn what tune it was or if words accompanied it.

“You’re staring.”

Klaus blinked, coming back to himself to find her glancing at him over one slim shoulder. Her hands kept moving at their slow pace, purple tresses catching some of the light and almost shimmering as she let it fall.

Anima continued to watch him, a thoughtful look on her face.

“I thought you enjoyed being admired.” He felt his lips want to twitch and suppressed it, meeting her gaze with a faint smirk.

Had it been someone else, he might have said that she’d just rolled her eyes. A sound that might have been amused escaped her as she seemed to dismiss him, humming once more as she resumed her previous task.

The length of her assignment and the distance from home seemed to have softened her edges with tiredness, he’d noticed that almost immediately when he’d arrived home himself. She’d laid her head against his chest when he embraced her, arms loose about his middle and they had just stood there for several minutes. Neither of them had spoken.

Now, in the candlelight, her skin had a glow to it that daylight couldn’t normally provide. The pale fabric of her chemise let him see more of her back and shoulders than anyone else was privy to - except for the maids.

All in all she looked warm and inviting, posture relaxed as it hardly ever was around anyone besides those she trusted.

He knew that her hair would be cool against his fingers, that she’d shiver if he ran his hand down the arch of her back. She might lean into him, let his hands skim over her sides and trail up to brush over her breasts, or down over the soft skin of her belly and hips.

Or he might stand in front of her and crouch to her level, watch the shifting emotions in her half-lidded eyes. Reach out and cup her face in his hands, draw her in for a kiss - or do as he had when he’d healed her injuries with kisses, take one slim ankle in his hand and start a path up to her knee.

She would shift and squirm just a little, as she had then. If he was lucky she might even blush a little, the heat settling in a dusting of pink across her nose and cheeks.

The thought stirred fond memories, and other things as well.

She paused, back still facing him from her perch on the bed, as he closed his book and set it on the bedside table. Her chemise felt cool and soft as he leaned close, his chest almost touching the nearly sheer fabric.

“Let me, Anima.” He murmured, cupping the hand that held the comb in one of his own.

She shivered and loosened her hold on the item.


	95. Support - Aina & Joel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt, "I'm not cut out for this"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal truth, whether real or simply perceived to be so, is a pain to confront.

“I’m not cut out for this.” She tries not to sound bitter about it, but it comes out as frustrated and she knows it. Her fingers tighten reflexively on her wand as she stares hard past it’s sharp tip, as though fixing the grass before her will somehow fix the current situation.

She hears Joel sigh from her right, tries to stamp down on the mix of shame, disappointment, and remaining ire that flares up at the sound.

Instead she lowers her wand until it dangles by her side, hand loosely holding it so that it doesn’t fall. With her other hand, she tucks errant locks of green hair behind her ear - idly wondering if one of the girls in the dorm might be willing to spot her a tie or barrette until she could get some of her own.

“Maybe you’re trying too hard.” Her Buddy’s voice drifted past the barriers of thought she’d immersed herself in, drawing her back to the present with a snap.

He met her gaze squarely, as usual, cocking a brow at the surprised look she was giving him. “What?”

“That’s it?” She couldn’t quite keep the words from tumbling out, fingers still curled around a forgotten bit of hair. “No ‘it’s because you’re dumb’ or ‘you’re saying it wrong’?”

A brief flicker of hurt crosses his face and she regrets the sharpness of her tone instantly, but in the next moment Joel smooths his expression out - gives nothing away as he heaves himself off the log he’d been sitting on. Dapples of sunlight make fragmented shadows dance over his face as he took up the spot beside her, one hand finishing the task of pushing her hair back.

She lets him, more because she’s confused and feeling guilty over hurting him.

“I don’t mean to sound like that.” He mutters, bi-colored gaze roaming over her face. Like he’s looking for something in particular. What it could be, she isn’t entirely sure. “But I know you aren’t pronouncing the spell wrong. And you’re not dumb.” He adds, voice going soft at the end.

His knuckles are still by her cheek and he feels pleasantly warm.

She doesn’t want to think too hard about it.

“So what’s your advice? You know, Buddy to Buddy?” Pushing one corner of her mouth up, she faces him with her full attention, pleased to see the surprise that comes over his face.

“But your magic’s not - “

“I know I’m not a spellsinger, Joel. You told me that all the time when I tried to sing my spells when we were kids.” This time the smile feels more natural and she lets herself rock back a little on her heels. “Besides,” she adds, after a second’s thought, “even if our magic’s different, maybe you can offer me a pointer or two. What do you do when you have trouble casting a spell?”

“I don’t.” It falls from his mouth like a rock, plan and heavy, and she’s about to call him on it when his expression changes - focus turning inward.

She recognizes the look and waits, rocking forward when the pressure on her heels becomes uncomfortable.

“When I’m learning a new song…” He starts, tone contemplative, “Once I’ve learned the words I try and picture what the result will be like in my head.” Turquoise and amber irises met hers, their depth amazing when totally focused. “Have you ever tried that? Picturing what the spell is supposed to do, or what you want it to?”

She… hasn’t, actually. It’s not something that’s ever been brought up or talked about.

“I… can try?” She tests the words out, a tiny glimmer of hope building in her midsection.

He nods at that, lips quirking in one of his half-smiles. “Then give it a shot. If you don’t try, you’ll never know.”

She can’t help but roll her eyes at that, just a little. Sometimes he’s too preachy, but that’s the way Joel is and she’s relatively sure that she wouldn’t change him. On most days, anyway.

“Alright..” It’s tempting to roll up her sleeves, just for the sake of doing it and the focus it sometimes brings. Drawing her wand up into a ready position, she takes a deep breath. Lets it out slowly as she calls to mind the incantation necessary to summon a torrent of water.

The words come, but she hesitates, staring out past the trees of the glade they’re in.

“You can do it, Aina.” Joel’s murmur is soft. Gentle even.

She lets herself nod once, gathering up the energy within herself and voicing the spell.


	96. A Temperamental Element - Anima Perrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to the pain of love taken from you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains violence.

She knows something is wrong as her feet bring her close to the door. A sense of wrongness weighs at the back of her mind and it makes her pause before she can reach for the door’s knob. Her eyes move over the painted wood and colored glass, looking for things that are out of place, for something that doesn’t belong. The door itself is unchanged from this morning, white paint dyed a soft umber in the evening rays of the sun.

Even with all her senses extended, Anima can’t find a trace of Klaus – the last imprint of his magic and presence as old as hers from this morning. If he hasn’t come home yet then there is no reason for anyone to be inside their home.

But they are, and she does not recognize them.

Sliding one hand into the pocket of her coat, she gently set the other on the knob and turned. It moved without resistance, hinges quiet as she opened the door a crack. There were no signs of forced entry – the intruder had used magic then, her mind supplied.

The hall was empty as she peered down it through the narrow space between the door and frame. Nothing looked disturbed from what she could see – the table where a vase of flowers cut from the garden seemed unchanged from this morning. Whoever had let themselves in hadn’t touched the items on the walls, the lack of any physical evidence she’d expected drawing her unease tight within her belly.

Opening the door just enough to ease herself inside, Anima glanced towards the stairs which led up to her shared room with Klaus. The stairs remained inert, unblemished, and she drew her wand out of her pocket as she focused her senses.

Someone was still here. Traces of foreign magic lingered in the air, painting a picture of sorts that she could follow.

It was the most concentrated further down the hall, to the right.

Her study. Her workspace.

Anger threaded its way through her, sitting low in her midsection as she crept towards her study. As she came closer she could see that the door was open, the faint smell of smoke making her wrinkle her nose. Parts of the door bore scorch marks, particularly around the handle and lock – as though the intruder had simply tried to burn away the wards she’d layered. The wall was darkened with similar damage, sooty blots and the smell the largest remainder of the attempt.

Hurried footsteps from within her study made her freeze, grip tightening on her wand as she listened – a clatter of wood on wood that sounded much too loud to her ears, papers rustling as they were roughly moved, a man’s voice uttering curses as he kept searching.

Was he after her most recent findings? Or was it something else, possibly nothing to do with her work in the Ministry?

Parting her lips, Anima drew in a slow breath, focusing her mind on the remaining wards that were still functional in her study. She nudged at them with her magic, stirred them to life as they responded.

Binding spells, to restrain and seal both the physical body and the magical prowess of a person, thrummed to life as she fed her magic into them – a pressure that the man in her study almost appeared to sense as he slowly went still. She could almost envision it – his shoulders tense and posture braced for a threat he couldn’t see. His head turning from one side to the other, looking for the source of the mounting presence of her magic.

She held the image in her mind as she’d been trained – threads of light, of magic, winding their way over the figure in the room. They moved similar to severed strings of a spider’s web, invisible until the light touched them just so – then they clung to the skin, the clothes, and were impossible to brush off. From the ceiling of her study, the walls, even the floor, such threads would emerge and incapacitate the one she directed them to – solidifying into a physical binding that rendered limbs immobile, stilled the tongue so that no spells could be spoken.

From mere contact with bare skin the binding would stifle the captured individual’s magic.

Separating her mind from the swell of satisfaction of hearing the intruder struggle within her study against the snare of her magic, Anima envisioned the next step – a dragging weight building in the man’s limbs that started in the legs and crept outward, steadily increasing until standing upright would be a Herculean task.

She pushed, the weight of her will pressing down against the figure she could sense in the back of her mind, anger that had been steadily brewing inside of her only momentarily satisfied when her ears caught the sound of the intruder’s knees hitting the floor.

A muffled groan, desperate and weak, drifted out of her study and it was at that sound Anima finally opened her eyes; back straightening as she stood a little taller, knowing she’d won, that this stranger that dared to violate the security of her home was at her mercy.

Her feet made hardly any noise as she moved from the slightly charred wall, wand at the ready as she stepped into her study. Violet eyes darted over the room to take in the damage, the feeling of victory dampened by a resurgence of anger at the sight of her personal sanctuary in disarray.

The desk’s drawers were pulled out, some missing entirely and the papers and materials that had been inside scattered on the hardwood floor. Some of the documents were crumpled, as though stepped on or marred by hand. Books from her shelves had been pulled down and tossed about, pages exposed or spines bent open awkwardly where they lay. The map on the wall, her pins marking spots of investigation for her work, was torn – short chunks gone from the bottom corners as though the man had tried to grab it by the ends and tear the whole thing down.

Glass shards from her equipment littered the floor, glinting like watchful, accusatory eyes.

Her attention shifted to the man curled in on himself, straining against gossamer-thin threads of pale violet light that held him in place. As she took a measured step closer her eyes tried to pick out any familiar, or distinguishing, features. If she recognized him at all, it would make the guessing of the reason for this trespass at least a little easier.

He couldn’t be more than mid-thirties, she thought, his square-jawed face and hair lacking significant lines or flecks of gray. His hair, for the most part, remained slicked back from his face – parts of it having fallen loose in his raid of her workspace. He stared at her with wide, deep-set eyes. Surprise, frustration, and a reluctant hint of fear mixed in their depths – his eyes darting from her to her wand, then back up to her face.

His clothes were simple, nondescript – well-tailored but without any definitive mark of an organization such as the Ministry or one of its affiliates.

Anima didn’t recognize him.

Flicking her wand, the threads moved from their position over his mouth and slipped inward, past the hurried clench of his lips and teeth to align themselves with the muscles and flesh. His jaw relaxed at her persistent nudge through the magic that bound him and the fear in his eyes intensified for a moment.

If he didn’t want to talk, she would force them down his throat and _make_ him.

“Your name?” Her voice sounded calmer than she truly felt, anger that had abated now gradually returning as she watched him dither. Showing it, however, was out of the question.

His throat worked for several seconds, spittle glistening on his lips as he tried to force them shut after syllables began to form on his tongue.

“Harold.” He croaked out, face reddening as he continued to strain against the spell. When she pressed, strings of light tightening around his frame, he gasped out “Briggs.”

Anima caught herself beginning to smirk and pushed it down, taking a step closer. “Who sent you to break into my home?”

He trembled a little, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of her will and physical exertion. It sounded as though he were biting the words out when he responded. “I… wasn’t.. sent.”

She broke him off with another mental push, tightening the strings around him and applying the faintest bit of her anger. His body jolted as though shocked, a spasm racking him from head to toe. He cried out against it, hoarse and loud in the otherwise quiet room. The ties of her spell brightened for a second, casting a different sort of illumination across the walls and floor that the sun’s sinking rays couldn’t match.

“You are well past the ability to lie to me, Harold.” The use of his name frightened him, she could see, easing up the pressure of the spell before it rendered him insensible. Measuring her tone, unconsciously mimicking the slow, even calm her father’s voice had so often taken, she spoke once more. “Not only have you intruded into my home, you have violated the sanctity of my work. I want to know _why_.”

A flick of her wand drew him up to his feet, joints creaking in protest of the weight they had to bear and his expression twisting with pain. Her will kept him in place, though he did his best to shrink from her when she stepped nearer, voice softening further – as though addressing a child.

“Tell me, Harold, who sent you on this grievous error of a venture.”

“M-M-magister H-Hofmann.. H-he w-wants t-to know if y-you’re harboring d-dark m-magical a-artifacts…” The words left the taller man in shuddering gasps, jaw working as though he were trying to bite at the strings in his mouth.

The magister’s name rang a faint bell and Anima made a note to investigate the matter further.

“Who else? The good magister would hardly work alone if he sent you after me specifically.” She watched the emotions play out over the man’s face, coolly raising her wand when she saw the thought to lie cross his features.

He shuddered like a tree in a gale, sucking in a deep breath.

“I-I d-don’t know the first name. They’re called Disch.” There was a plea in the words, but she ignored it – attention drawn to something she’d overlooked in her initial examination of the room.

She’d missed it because the object had fallen under her desk, hidden by the side of a drawer that had been turned out and gone through. It was very possible that she would have not seen it at all, even standing closer as she was, except for the length of familiar dark purple hair on the floor.

Her hair.

Focus narrowed to that single point, Anima stepped around the bound man and moved to get a better look at the object – though there was only one thing it could truly be.

A distant sort of awareness told her that her sudden change in behavior had caused the man behind her to stiffen as much as he was able, the rest of her mind occupied with a faint static as she processed what her eyes had fallen on.

The doll lay in a crumpled heap, porcelain limbs splayed around its flattened body in bits and pieces, dark satin of its pinafore dress sticking up where shards like bone protruded outward. Its face was heavily cracked, one eye having come entirely free from its socket and the stain of its lips sporting tiny holes through which she could glimpse the back of its head – what remained of it. The hair attached to its head was tangled and dirty, as though trodden on in haste when destroying the body had not yielded any desired result.

In her mind, Anima was in the hallway leading off of a socialite’s ballroom, five years old again as a girl who looked very much like her offered her the doll with a curiously hesitant expression. The hair had been taken from her very own head, snipped from artfully arranged waves by scissors she hadn’t known the other girl possessed.

Drie, her sister’s voice, telling her that the doll was hers now. Making it dance when she’d asked if the doll could move.

Telling her that it would be her friend.

Heat prickled at the back of her throat, sharp and painful as it tightened the muscles and stung behind her eyes. Her jaw tightened to the point of clenching, teeth fitted tightly together as something ugly and venomous roiled through her insides.

Strings grew taunt and glowed brilliantly, turning their reach towards the innards of the man’s body as they delved past the barriers of his clothes and skin with a prick of sensation not unlike that of a needle – past flesh and into meat, muscle and bone twitching and shifting as lines of her magic subjugated his body’s will and instinct. Distantly, she heard him cry out in pain. Her focus remained on the doll, staring at the play of light from her magic over fragments of porcelain and calcium. It almost seemed to make the doll move, as though it might attempt to reassemble itself if only she directed the will and magic into it.

The single eye stared back at her, unmoving, and she finally turned back to the figure behind her.

He remained on his feet solely due to her spell, most likely. His face spasmed as she watched, thin trails of violet light illuminating the layers of skin and the silhouette of veins as they burrowed deeper. Even against the hold of the threads around him he bucked and shuddered, mouth hanging open as though he might attempt a scream. His eyes rolled from one thing to another, white showing as they slipped back beneath the upper lids.

Sweat glistened over his ruddy skin, chest jerking from both the tendrils of her magic and the short, gasping breaths he was dragging in.

Anima watched as he choked, either on one such breath or on the spittle he couldn’t quite swallow. “You aren’t _**worthy**_ of being a doll.” She growled, voice low and deeper than it had ever been. With a sharp jerk of her hand, as though wrenching something aside, she watched as the hold her magic had over him abruptly loosened and he toppled to the side – landing with all his weight on one shoulder, throat still working with a hardly processed scream.

Light still played a game of hide-and-seek inside of him, becoming visible after winding itself into and around groups of twitching muscle – a pressure echoing back along her link to it informing her that the strands had breached bone.

She stood over him, taunt as a wire herself.

In the room, her own heartbeat competed with his harried breathing for being the loudest. Until, with all the slowness of something creeping close to smother the light, a thought started to take form in her mind. Her shoulders eased from their bunched tension, virulent emotion smoothing from her expression into contemplative detachment. The staccato beat in her chest evened out and her own breath came easily as she studied the prone male figure.

“You will go back to the magister and tell him that you found nothing.” Her voice came out soft, satin over steel. When the man managed an affirmative – not so much a nod as a pleading quake of his being – she continued, lifting the crushing drive of her will from the magic thrumming throughout his body. “My work is wholly turned towards the Ministry’s benefit. Should the magister or your Disch ask, offer them your sincere word under oath.”

Again, he managed a sort of affirmative, sucking in gulps of breath now that the weight of her influence had abated. He was shaking, head to foot, shutting his eyes tightly as if they pained him.

Slowly, the clenched grasp she had on her wand loosened, fingertips tingling as proper circulation returned to them. She raised it, ignoring the almost instinctive flinch the man gave and _pulled_. Threads, once moving or at rest, began to retreat – slender filaments of light leaving him appearing hollowed out as they left his body.

Except for a single thread.

“You… you aren’t going to kill me..?” His voice, cracked and weak, drew part of her attention to his face – his eyes now half-open and watching her.

She wound the thread tightly, almost lovingly, around the valves of his heart.

“Lie to me once more and yes, that shall be a part of your reward.” Anima gave her wand a last, gentle, flick and lowered it to a neutral height. She didn’t wait for him to fully process her words, simply gave the order – voice cool and authoritative. “Get out of my sight.”

He moved, laboriously slow and with no small amount of difficulty, but he moved. She watched him until he shambled out the way he came in, warding the door after she closed it.

Her feet carried her back to her study, sidestepping parchment, wood and glass until she could kneel beside remains of the doll Drie gifted her with when they were children. With careful, slightly tremoring hands, she gathered up the pieces and wrapped them in the folds of her coat and tying the sleeves.

Hours later, as Klaus asked her again what had happened, Anima responded with a simple remark.

“I took care of it.”


	97. The Art of Belonging - Anima & Mami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a party and not all those attending have cheery feelings about it.

“How do you do it?” The softly voiced question made Anima’s hand pause in their practiced application of makeup to the other girl’s features, in the room’s bright light Mami’s expression bordered somewhere between nervousness and fear. Usually warm brown eyes finally met violet and the taller young woman swallowed, a quick smile and an awkward gesture of her hand providing a little more insight to the issue. “All of this, I mean.” She clarified when Anima made no move to respond, one hand delicately lifting Mami’s chin to better judge the effect of the makeup.

“The tedious play of dressing for a part I do not enjoy or the hours spent in a room with those in pursuit of my name and any scandalous history hidden within?” Anima quipped, almost believably light in tone. She took an extra moment to look over her sister-in-law’s face before deciding that the overall effect was quite charming, drawing her hand back so that Mami could finally lower her head and carefully roll it in small circles to alleviate her tension.

“All of it.” The other girl replied, taking extra care not to muss the complicated style her naturally curly hair had been corralled into. Her scalp still throbbed, both from the pulling of the comb and the tightness of the overall style itself, threatening an oncoming headache. Looking up at the cool figure Anima presented, she couldn’t quite suppress the stab of envy that the shorter woman didn’t have such difficulty in dressing up her long, if only slightly, wavy hair. The dark purple tresses were also pulled up for the occasion, coiled in an intricate pattern that Mami couldn’t quite decipher, held in place with tiny clips of gold that glinted beguilingly in the light.

Anima made it look so natural. Not a mote of stress or nerves to be seen, whereas Mami felt as though her light breakfast had turned to snakes in the pit of her stomach.

“I was born for this.” Anima said it with an air of fact, setting down the brush she’d been using to add a light tease of rogue to Mami’s cheeks. Her next words were softer, less emotionally detached. “With time and practice, you learn to tell every person apart by the way they hold themselves and what they do not wish for you to know by how they choose their words. At times, even their style of dress can give you clues.”

She raised her face, looking at Mami full-on with a prettily blank expression. It was similar to the look the other girl had seen Anima wear during their days at the Academy, the subtle press of distance that kept people at arm’s length from the purple haired student. Only now there was something Mami recognized, because she’d seen it in herself when Elias had brought up this social event and her attendance.

A sort of resignation. Or perhaps it was forbearance, because Anima had shown a sort of patience that Mami had needed to learn for herself – both for the demands of the Goldstein’s social circle and the uncharted waters that her own heritage brought into place.

“So should I try and imagine everyone in the room in their underwear to get rid of my nerves?” Mami tried for a smile, injecting a hint of cheer she didn’t quite feel into the question. She kept from fidgeting only because the dress she was wearing – lovely, beautiful even, and so much more expensive than anything she’d ever owned before – was meant to last the whole night and she didn’t want to ruin it. And she liked its colors, the soft pale pink that bordered on pastel for the bodice and skirt and the accent of tender baby blue was not something she’d ever thought would go together but somehow it did.

She hadn’t seen herself in the mirror yet, but Mami hoped she didn’t look like she felt – a child playing dress-up, to the amusement of people who supposedly knew more and better than her.

One corner of Anima’s lips quirked in a controlled gesture of amusement, the depths of her eyes briefly lighting up with something – whatever it was, Mami didn’t know. But the paler young woman was lifting something from within a velvet-lined box that had, up to now, remained closed on the vanity before them. Mami eyed the thin chain that glittered gold and had pale, rosy pink stones along its length. It dangled in Anima’s hands as the other undid the clasp, thumbnail-sized stone cut to resemble a sort of flower swinging gently from the center of the necklace.

Mami started to bow her head until Anima lightly pushed her back, crossing to stand just behind her to affix the jewelry around her neck. It felt a little strange to have the shorter girl behind her, like there was some form of gesture at the heart of it that she didn’t understand just yet.

“I would not recommend imagining them in their undergarments, if you would prefer me to be frank.” Anima murmured the words as she carefully situated the necklace and hooked the clasp and tiny ring together. “Most of those in attendance only look pleasing in the upper layers of their clothes, no matter what they try and project. I do not want you scaring yourself.” She gently nudged the chain into proper position, lifting her eyes to look over the umber curls of her sister-in-law’s hair.

Mami still felt tense under her fingertips, barely contained nerves showing themselves in the too-quick perk of an ear to catch the words she’d spoken. Anima spared a moment for thought, sorting through her own experiences for the best choice of advice to give the young woman shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Her sister-in-law gave a weak chuckle in response to the passive joke, dipping her head to regard her hands, shoulders curving inward just the smallest bit.

The weak posture raised to mind the lessons of etiquette and poise of her childhood, and even less pleasant, the ghostly voice of her father. Pushing it aside with a firm thought, Anima took Mami’s shoulders gently and drew the taller girl up into a proper sitting position. Mami obliged, too stiff, shallow breaths hardly making her ribs expand at all. She kept her hands where they were, neither directing nor correcting, until she felt Mami start to relax. Briefly, she allowed herself a flicker of annoyance towards Elias for putting Mami in this position.

“What I find that helps,” she began, fingers feather-light in smoothing down faint wrinkles in Mami’s dress, “is imagining the look on Klaus’ face when he sees me.” She watched Mami turn her head just faintly to better catch her words and continued, keeping her voice soft. “I do not believe that it should matter who else is in the room so long as you hold that image of Elias in your mind. He looks at you as though you are everything that is precious and that is the way it should be.”

A giggle made Mami’s shoulders shake, her earrings gently swaying with the motion. Anima gave herself leave to smile, even if the other girl couldn’t see it.

“You’re over-exaggerating, but I appreciate it Anima.”

“I am not.” She chided, finally moving back into Mami’s line of vision. The taller girl watched her, looking mildly surprised but interested. Anima reached out before she could think better of it, tucking a whimsical curl of umber hair behind Mami’s ear. Tone frank, “Elias does not hide it nearly so well as he thinks he does. If you focus on him you will be less nervous. You are not venturing into this alone, even if it seems that way.”

Mami’s lightened mood faltered at that, smile fixing in place before she dropped it entirely and looked down once more.

Anima frowned at the sudden change in posture, one hand starting to lift towards the young woman before she stopped it.

“But I’m going to stand out.” Mami spoke to the nervous curl of her entwined fingers, showing more vulnerability than Anima could ever recall seeing before. “This isn’t like the parties in Reitz where it was okay if I tripped or missed a step in a dance, or if I couldn’t get a spell right on the first try. It didn’t matter as much there if I wasn’t – “ Mami stopped, her hands tensing until they clenched, furtively glancing at Anima’s own hands – small and slim, delicately long-fingered and _pale_ – before looking back at her own.

It clicked.

Mami remained as she was, forcing her hands – a little larger, broader than Anima’s, nails short in a practical sense and the skin around them dark – to relax. “I didn’t say anything to Elias because I didn’t think he’d understand.” She murmured, eyes still fixed to her lap and the fabric of her dress. “He’s used to all this, like you are. Elias… _fits_.” There was a sort of helpless emphasis on that word that made Anima think of frustration. That this was something Mami had thought about often, unable to comfortably speak about it with anyone close to her.

Klaus and Elias had been born into this part of Gedonelune’s society, as Anima had. This issue of stratification had never been something they had to cross, and in a very real sense Mami was alone for it.

“Are you saying that you are unfit simply on the basis of your skin?” The words leave Anima’s mouth before she can think to stop them, tone arch and questioning. Mami raised her head at the sound, expression momentarily turning to steel.

“Don’t patronize me Anima. I _know_ that I’m not from this part of Gedonelune like you, Elias and Klaus. I’m reminded of it every day.”

Several responses came to mind, yet Anima forced them back and stilled her tongue. Taking a small, short breath, she let it out carefully – sensing Mami waiting. “I’m sorry. I did n… I didn’t mean to sound like I was patronizing you.”

Something in her sister-in-law’s face eased, allowing a narrow quirk of lips. “You can be very good at it when you aren’t paying attention.”

Anima winced at that, mouth turning down at the corners. “I’m sorry.”

A little more of the tension eased out of Mami’s posture and the taller girl sat back, dropping her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve been helping me with all this – “ one of her hands raised and gestured at herself, the unfamiliar styling of her hair, the dress, “So I’m the one that should be thanking you. I’m sorry I blew up at you.” She added, lips curving in a bleak little smile.

“If that is you losing your temper then you have nothing to worry about.” A smile tugged at Anima’s mouth, not as contained as ones previous, and the sight of it made Mami’s widen into a more genuine one of her own.

“Careful. I’ve been known to make a mess if I really do get mad.” Mami’s smile turned into a short laugh at her own words, Anima joining in with a more reserved chuckle.

They remained quiet for a moment once the mirth wore itself out, silence verging on comfortable. Anima took the opportunity to study Mami’s appearance. The dress was a good one. In the light of the ballroom it would bring out the warmer tones of the young woman’s skin and the modest jewelry made an excellent accent. In her opinion, her sister-in-law wouldn’t need to worry a chilly reception from other attendees. Mami had an open honesty and warmth that made her easy to speak to and the fact that she had managed to become friends, now more, with Elias spoke enough on its own.

The realist in Anima also pointed out what others might use as ammunition however – Mami had grown up an orphan in an obscure part of Gedonelune, a humble village healer, and even though she’d attended Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy that did not boost her social standing anywhere close to that of the Goldstein family. Her rare magical talents weren’t well-known, perhaps for the better, and yes, Mami’s darker skin and striking hair would be different from the collection of figures that usually attended gatherings such as this one – even if it was a distant Goldstein’s birthday.

“Is that what has caused you so much worry about this day?” Anima asked, breaking poise to lean one slender hip against the wood of the vanity. Mami glanced at her, confused at first before understanding sank in. Her sister-in-law started to look away, then stopped herself.

Mami’s nod was slow and careful and not entirely because of the elaborate style that had taken hours to force her hair into.

“Like I said, I didn’t want to bring it up with Elias because I wasn’t sure he’d get it. He’s sweet when he tries to be encouraging but Elias doesn’t know what it’s like to be a girl.” Mami smiled faintly and Anima nodded in understanding. For a moment she thought about adding in one of her own experiences with Klaus over such an issue, thinking better of it when Mami spoke again.

“People talked about us at the Academy. His fan club was the worst about it but… that didn’t stop others from asking if I was good enough to be his girlfriend.” The smile faded from Mami’s face as her eyes trailed off to the side, remembering. “I asked myself the same question a lot when I was studying for my Trial and Elias didn’t want to be my Buddy, but we managed to at least talk things out between us. It never really hit me until later what dating a Goldstein really means, especially if you don’t mind marrying one.”

Anima’s mouth quirked, the urge to narrow her eyes with a measure of fondness for her sister-in-law surprisingly strong. She settled for speaking instead, a chord of amused honesty ringing through her words. “It does tend to rear its head at inopportune times, yes.” Then, because she was actually curious, “Do you want to be here or are you doing this to make Elias happy?”

Mami seemed to think on it, her mouth pouting slightly as she did. When she spoke her words were carefully measured but no less honest. “I want to be a part of all aspects of his life. If I just stayed in some hidden corner and left him all alone then it wouldn’t really be fair – especially since he’s been willing to go with me to my hometown and spend time with the people who I came to consider my family after my parents died.”

Anima watched the taller girl nod as if to herself, brown eyes still distant with thought. “I want to do this, be here I mean. It’s just never _been_ like this – I’m not going to know more than a handful of people in the room and they aren’t going to know me, and that’s similar to how it was at the Academy but these are people Elias has known for… well, longer than he’s known me and I don’t want to mess up.” Another small, strained smile accompanied the words. Then, in a softer voice, “And I don’t want to spend all my time being stared at like I don’t belong. Be whispered about like I’m something dirty.”

“Nothing about you is dirty.” Anima said it firmly, posture slowly straightening. Mami’s gaze snapped back to the present, fixing on her with a measure of surprise and calculation. The younger Perrill met her sister-in-law’s stare evenly, assuredly adamant.

“It is true, people will talk. This will be the first instance outside of the Academy’s walls where you and Elias will be seen together, individually and as a couple. There will be whispers, there will be questions, and it would not surprise me at all if some of your fears are not only justified tonight, but spoken of aloud.” She watched a mix of emotions pass over Mami’s face, the tension slowly taking over the taller girl’s form once more. Anima didn’t give her the chance to speak just yet, continuing just as matter-of-fact as before as she reached to direct Mami’s face back towards her.

Their eyes met and Anima did not blink as she stared into honey-brown irises.

“There is a good chance that some will speak unfavorably, even cruelly, of you tonight. What you need to remember is that no matter what they say you are far above their one-sided expectations. None of the people here tonight except for yourself and Elias, Klaus and I have the knowledge that you walked in the Tower of Sorrows and faced a chimera. You have the scars on your back to prove it.” She saw Mami twitch at that, a shadow of old fear coming and going at the reminder. Anima pressed on, tips of her fingers steady on Mami’s jaw.

“You know the truth about the Dragon of Time and you have done more in your time than many downstairs will have. In your practice of white magic alone, you surpass several names in high society.” A thin smile curved Anima’s mouth, drawing a sliver of confusion into Mami’s expression. The purple haired girl softened her voice further as her current thought faded, taking on a more pleasant form. “And I am well aware of the fact that you are one of the loveliest sights in a room when you and Elias dance together. Whatever else is said or done tonight, you are above their petty jealousies and trivial squabbles.”

“You’re ruthless aren’t you?” Mami looked faintly stunned, but amused. She didn’t brush Anima’s hand away or pull back, meeting violet eyes squarely with her own.

The thin smile came back with an edge, the intensity in the shorter girl’s eyes solidifying in something collected and powerful. “I am.” She answered, lightly brushing the curve of Mami’s jaw with one knuckle before drawing her hand back. “We can walk in together, you and I, if you have no objection to being seen with a Perrill.” Anima didn’t spare any attention to the confused look that earned her, moving away from the vanity and offering her hand to Mami to help her rise.

“Should anyone ruin your evening, I give you my word that I will ruin them in return.” She added, calm and sure as the glint of a knife.

Mami laughed, soft and perhaps a little unsure as she took her sister-in-law’s hand and stood, feeling the full weight of her gown at last and shifting to accommodate it. It wasn’t terribly unbearable, just different than what she was used to. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary.” She answered back, lightly squeezing Anima’s hand with her own. “I’d hate for you to get something on your dress.” Mami added the last part jokingly, glad to see that it did make Anima smile – thankfully not the same thin, cold one from before.

The shorter girl led her away from the chair and vanity, towards a different corner of the room that boasted what looked like a folding screen pushed in on itself to conserve space. Not that the room needed it, in Mami’s mind. The space in which they’d gotten dressed was larger than her room in her cottage back in Reitz. Anima let go of her hand and started towards the folded up screen, tugging it open with what seemed like very little effort.

Polished mirrors emerged, beautifully clear as they reflected the room and Mami herself.

She’d been about to ask Anima what she was doing but now the words fled her thoughts entirely as she stared at herself, limbs going stiff with shock. Dimly Mami was aware of Anima watching her reaction but it didn’t quite register as her brain tried to process that the young woman she was seeing reflected three times over was herself.

Umber hair drawn up tight into elegant coils and tumbling curls, just barely managing to touch the shells of her ears, from which pale rose pink earrings dangled from the lobes. The rogue added a bit of a blush to her cheeks, better looking than she’d expected in all honesty. The flower-cut gem of the necklace sat comfortably over her breastbone, gold links of the thin chain winking in the light against her skin. She stared at the dress too, feeling her eyes prickle a little at how pretty it looked – at how _pretty_ she looked.

Reaching down carefully, Mami lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to glimpse the match pink shoes – the ruffled lace at the toes and short heel adding a charm to the overall look she hadn’t expected when she’d first laid eyes on them. She let the skirt go, partly because she was afraid of wrinkling the dress, and let herself stare for a few seconds more as Anima continued to watch her.

“I don’t think Elias is going to be able to look me in the eye.” Mami almost didn’t hear herself say it, her shock giving way to a thrill of pleasure – at the thought and at her own appearance. Turning her eyes to her-sister-in-law, she caught the knowing softness of Anima’s half-smile. The purple-haired girl stood out of the mirror’s reflective reach, a look that said _‘you see?’_ in her pretty eyes.

“Once he forgets his habit of embarrassment he won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” The shorter girl responded, glancing at one of Mami’s reflections with a subtle look of pride. Those eyes turned back to Mami as she said, “That will likely include many others, you know.”

Mami felt herself smile, reaching out her hand for Anima to take. The young woman seemed reluctant at first until she finally acquiesced and took it, letting Mami pull her close.

The two of them made an interesting pair in the mirror. Anima’s dress lacked frills and lace entirely, a simple, close-fitting gown of a pale yellow with a sheer fabric that made up its accents. The gold in her dark purple hair caught the light just enough to draw the eye, simple earrings and necklace completing the picture of what Mami thought of as reserved attractiveness.

Anima’s expression shuttered as soon as she was within sight of the mirror, looking herself over with critical eyes. The hand that wasn’t holding Mami’s brushed a wrinkle from her dress almost mechanically, the swishing hem of her skirt briefly exposing dainty-looking shoes of a matching yellow dotted with what might be pearls.

“We look good, Anima. Great even.” Mami smiled and gently squeezed the other girl’s hand, hoping to get her to relax. Her answer was a half-smile that was pretty, but distant. She filed that away for another time, taking a slow breath to steady herself. “It’s time for us to go isn’t it?”

“It is.” Anima’s voice was soft but not unkind, her gaze very carefully avoiding her own reflection in the mirror. She didn’t resist when Mami gently tugged her away, something like a smile growing over her face as they neared the room’s only door. “Do you want me to lead?”

“Yeah. You know what you’re doing.” Mami let her own smile widen for a second before her face sobered up, feeling Anima wind their arms together as they left the room. The hall was cool and thankfully empty, the carpet muffling their steps as they walked. When she felt herself start to tense Anima gave her arm a light pat, the younger Perrill already having arranged her expression into a cool regard.

The ballroom was packed with persons in suits, dresses and formal attire in a myriad of colors. Mami caught sight of a person with Anima’s eyes watching them as they entered but her sister-in-law didn’t miss a step as she guided them into the throng with assured, graceful steps. Something crossed Klaus’ face in a quick flash when she saw him but she didn’t turn her head to see what Anima’s reaction was. Elias stood by his brother and was turning to face them when he stopped, mouth opening for a second before he remembered himself, cheeks flushing with pink.

Mami offered up a smile, something like excitement pushing some of the nerves away that Anima’s reassurances hadn’t quite managed to touch.


	98. Accord - Magnus Perrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse in the life of Magnus Perrill, father of Drie and Anima Perrill.

“You turned off the alarm.” He murmurs into the warm flesh his cheek is pressed against, one ear tucked close to the other’s sternum so that he might hear the steady heartbeat within. An answer comes in the form of warm, thick fingers pulling strands of pale blond from his face and where it had attempted to encircle his neck as he slept. Those same fingers run lightly along the shell of his ear and send faint tickles down his spine, tempting him with the thought of returning to sleep.

He hears the rumble of the other man’s voice and feels it come up from his chest, the languid position he has against the taller man’s side perfect to catch the gruffness of sleep still clinging to the deep bass timbre.

“You were up late.”

He thinks, drowsily, that there is amusement in his companion’s voice. In response he feels his mouth curve into a slow smile, and he thinks perhaps the other can feel it because those fingers are running through his hair again. Short, blunt nails gingerly scrape his scalp with every pass and the action is more soothing than he’d ever thought it could be.

Even so, he forces himself to wake up a little. The hand in his hair stops as he shifts position, lifting himself up as if to rise. “And who, I wonder, do I have to thank for that?”

The words aren’t nearly as harsh as they could have been, might have been, with someone else. He is still smiling even as he begins to register the golden light that is streaming in through the windows of his room, curtains shifting slightly from a breeze that sneaks in through the narrow space allowed by each barely open pane.

His skin breaks out in gooseflesh as the hand that had been toying with his hair settles against the curve at the small of his back, heady warmth from the calloused palm seeping into muscles that are normally tense. “Did you open the window?” He asks, more to distract himself from the alluring idea of laying back down. Lifting a hand, he drags his own fingers through his hair, contentment untouched by the feeling of the occasional snag or tangle his fingers encounter.

“I did.” Fingers move up his back, grazing over the sensitive patch of skin just under his ribs before starting a slow trail back down. There’s a pause before his companion adds, “You sleep easier if there is a breeze.”

“Do I?” He hums, giving the thought only minimal attention as he finally turns to regard the taller man with half-lidded eyes.

His partner offers a slow-building smile that deepens what faint lines exist on his wide, handsome face. The larger man, at some point, appropriated most of the pillows and still reclines against them looking as though he would not mind a longer nap. Still, pale eyes are alert when they meet his own – though he wonders if the darkening of their color is part of his own imagination as he leans in to the warmth the darker man exudes.

Tucking his hair back, he lets himself kiss those wide lips.

One, or both of them, hum with the light contact.

When he pulls back he feels a tinge of heat over his cheeks and turns his head away, sitting up proper this time and raking a hand through his hair. With his room as bright as it is he has no trouble seeing where their clothes are – a new set neatly folded and waiting exactly where they are every morning.

He’s loathe to put them on, for reasons he prefers not to name.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks instead, turning his back to his companion as he searches for a comb, finding it a moment later with a _‘hm’_ of satisfaction. Setting in on one knee, he divides his long hair into sections and drapes one over his shoulder to start with. The air isn’t terribly chill, though the metal touching his leg elicits a mild twitch, and he starts with the ends of his hair as he listens to the man behind him.

“I did.” A rustle, the mattress dipping as his companion shifts his weight to a more comfortable position. There are eyes on his back, yet he doesn’t tense beneath them as he slides the teeth of the comb through mussed tresses. “I trust you did as well?”

There it is, he muses as his lips quirk, the humor that managed to border on endearing. Still terribly humble, beneath everything else.

“Considering the hour, I am surprised you bother to ask.” He tosses back, the beginnings of a chuckle echoing in the last bit of the sentence. Truthfully, he knows it cannot be later than mid-morning, yet teasing his companion has its advantages.

The man in question chuckles for him, openly. His ears catch the rustle has the other shifts once more, possibly pulling back his own hair – long and silver, threads of a darker tint that looked nearly gray interspersed through the shoulder-length mess. He lets that image sit in his mind, savoring it as the comb hits a snag and he guides it through with practiced ease.

Silence fills the space between them, the breeze from the window tickling his skin where it manages to reach. Once he’s done with the first segment of hair he pulls the other around to rest on the opposite shoulder, pushing back the now tamed part to fall over his back. There’s a peculiar sensation of his hair floating, just for a moment, before he registers it as his partner toying with the long strands.

Another smile is tugging at his lips when he hears the taller man speak, each word carefully articulated with an accent he still has yet to place.

“Are you going to see your daughters?”

The comb pauses mid-stroke, his fingers marginally tightening on it as he schools his expression into a mask even though the other man cannot see his face from this angle. With calculated grace he draws the comb through his hair again, returning the question with one of his own. “Whatever for? Has there been some development I am unaware of?”

Fingers that had been playing with the ends of his hair stop in their ministrations, letting the captive strands fall to rest against his back. The air between them is less peaceful now, which is foolish in and of itself, he thinks.

There is temperate disapproval in the voice behind him, tinting each word that comes next even as the man’s tone remains surprisingly gentle. “They are your children, Magnus. Regardless of whether you see eye-to-eye you should spend time with them.”

He says nothing. The sound of the comb seems overly loud now.

Behind him, the man tries a different approach.

“You said both Drie and Anima were accepted into the Ministry?”

“Indeed. Drie has chosen to pursue the investigation of artifacts potentially linked with dark magic and its uses. Anima still entertains the study of magics from previous civilizations.” He can recall that, and more, but the summary seemed enough for this conversation.

A thoughtful hum rises from his companion’s throat in the wake of his words, as though the other were surprised he knew this much at least.

“Both are respectable careers.” Was that a note of pride he heard in that deep voice? Pride for a young woman he had never, to his own knowledge, met and one he had not seen since she was a girl? The thought, and the rising emotion accompanying it, were pushed aside as the man behind him continued. His tone was soft, as though that might persuade him. “Does such not count as occasion to visit them? They are both nearly grown, are they not?”

He felt his lips tighten into a thin line in response, gaze darkening as it settled on nothing in particular. Setting the comb back in its place once he’d finished the last stroke he frostily asked, “Am I to believe you are the expert on familial interaction then?”

Silence, weightier than he expected, fell once more.

He kept his back straight as he felt the mattress lift with his companion’s rising. Bare, quiet feet brushed over the dark wooded floor and he did not turn his head, even when the other man failed to enter his peripheral vision. Cloth rustled and he heard various buckles being done as the taller man dressed, surprised when the sound of the door opening and closing did not immediately follow once his partner finished.

Instead he felt warm fingers on his jaw, slowly turning his head so that he was looking up at the other man. Violet met violet and he did not swallow as the pad of the other’s thumb tried to smooth away the frown on his lips. With his hair pulled back, his partner looked younger, somehow more contemplative than he always did.

His voice was still soft when he spoke.

“Your children are not there for you to test and then set aside when they act according to their own wishes. Do not believe you are entitled to interrupt their lives just because you are their father.” The look in the other’s expression was stern, more so than he had seen it for some time.

“You presume to dictate the actions I take?” He narrowed his eyes at the man hovering over him, pulling back from the hand whose touch he’d so enjoyed earlier.

Theodore let him, what might have been disappointment flickering in his eyes before he lowered his hand. His expression didn’t change. “Simply reminding you that people are not toys with which to amuse yourself, Magnus. You seem to forget that, every so often.”

He restrained himself from responding, turning his face away in clear dismissal.

The door hardly made a sound when it clicked.


	99. Keeper of Bees - Delia & Yukiya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few years after graduation, Delia and Yukiya enjoy their domestic life. Still, it has its bumps.

“Excuse me, would you happen to have any royal jelly by chance?” The question, as well as the person asking, catch Delia off-guard as she pauses in setting jars of preserves on the stand Yukiya had helped her set up. She blinks at the middle aged man, noting that his style of dress and accent are not from the usual customers she is used to. His lightly graying hair is pulled back into a low tail, face respectably touched with age. His face and eyes, dark brown and deep-set, aren’t ones she recognizes. Reitz as a prefecture itself is larger than some others, but she does recognize the cut of the man’s suit from the ones she’d glimpsed in the capital before graduation.

A noble, come all the way to this tiny village, just for royal jelly?

Catching herself before she can be accused of staring, and pushing up her glasses so that the world regains shades of color she wouldn’t be able to see otherwise, Delia carefully sets her wares down and resists the urge to wipe her hands on her skirt. The man’s smile has yet to fade but it’s clear he’s looking down his nose at her and behind it she senses a mounting impatience.

“Royal jelly?” She asks, as if to make sure she’d heard him correctly. A part of her wonders if her ears had played tricks and she’d misunderstood. Because unless he was travelling through the area, it made little sense for someone like him to come so far out of his way for something that would be easier to purchase in larger towns – if not the capital itself.

“Yes. I’ve heard that your honey is among the best around this area. Since the rumor is supposed to have some truth behind it, I was curious to know if you had any for sale.” The man straightens, squaring his shoulders to fill out the space he occupies even further. His smile deepens and it makes her uncomfortable, though she does not lean away when he leans forward with one hand braced on an elaborately detailed cane, fingers glinting with rings. “I’m willing to pay extra,” he spoke lowly, tone conspiratorial, “for it to be fresh.”

Over his inclined figure she can see Yukiya’s head turn towards them. From several stalls down she isn’t sure if he can hear everything that’s being said, but his eye meets hers with a questioning look. She looks away, back to the man before her and takes a measure of confidence from the stand of goods between them.

“I’m afraid I don’t, sir. I harvest the honey yes, but I don’t extract the jelly from the comb.” Delia gives him her best apologetic smile, watching the man’s pleasant expression shutter into something displeased. Lifting her tone, she carefully gestures to the sealed jars between them, each full with their measure of golden honey. “You’re welcome to what I do have, of course, but if your mind is set on royal jelly you might have better luck in another town.”

Searching her memory, she tries to think of the nearest one that might be able to meet the man’s desire. A vague recollection comes to mind and her smile comes a little easier as she speaks once more, “There is a farm in the Ilgato region that might have what you’re looking for, if you would rather not try the capital. If you’re willing to wait a moment I might be able to give you the contact – “

“That is not what I asked for, young lady.” He cuts her off, both hands now folding over the head of his cane and _now_ he’s truly looking down his nose at her. When next he speaks his tone has a trace of condescension, as though it is _her fault_ for not carrying what he desires. “When I was told that a semi-competent wizardess lived in this village that managed hives, I _believed_ she might at least be smart enough to know when decent money might be made.”

_Semi-competent._ The word makes her face grow warm and Delia tightens her lips rather than give voice to the things that want to spring from her tongue in response. It takes an effort not to ball her hands and she settles for rest one against the smooth wood of the stand Yukiya had sanded down just for them to use at the farmer’s market. It gives her a sense of calm to feel it, keeps her from doing more with her other hand than sliding it into the pocket of her light jacket.

A part of Delia wishes Wolfy were here. While the wolf didn’t put much stock in being present for mundane activities like this, his presence tended to discourage people from causing trouble.

Or assuming they could walk over others.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you sir,” she manages politely, finding that it helps to get the words out if she swallows. “But the welfare of my bees isn’t worth what coin you would pay for me to extract the jelly.”

His face clouds further at that, lips turning down just faintly at the corners.

Yukiya is still watching them, Delia knows. She also knows that if it seems like there will be trouble he’ll cross the distance between them faster than one might expect for a person of his height and build.

“If you would like, I’ll be happy to refer you to someone who might be willing to accommodate your request.” She makes the offer because it’s the polite thing to do, because he is a customer even if he’s been more than rude.

Delia isn’t sure whether she’s relieved or not when the man scoffs, removing one hand from his cane and dropping his stance into something resembling boredom.

“That won’t be necessary. I can see you’re not about to heed good business sense.” He turns, purposely giving her a look at his profile before walking away. As he walks he doesn’t even pause by any other stall, taking the way that will lead out of town.

She isn’t sorry to see him go.

Hardly a moment later she feels the warmth coming from Yukiya’s body as he takes up the spot by her side, fingers gently taking hold of her hand and lifting it from where she’d pressed it against their stand.

“Are you alright?” His soft voice melts some of the remaining tension in her body, the warmth from his hand sinking into hers doing the rest.

Delia has to look up at him, which means raising her gaze over the edge of her glasses. His hair loses some of its blue, his visible eye no longer as clear a brown as her eyes try to process the change with the colors she’s limited to naturally.

Even so, she smiles at him, giving his hand a light squeeze. “I’m okay. He just… pulled an attitude. That’s all.”

“He’s wrong.” Delia blinks at that, not expecting the words to come from her boyfriend’s mouth. Yukiya’s expression doesn’t change and his voice is every bit as serious as he continues, “You’re better than semi-competent.”

Oh, so he had heard after all.

“I’ve still got room to improve.” She says back, injecting some lightness into her voice. When he looks at her with what she knows as faint worry Delia just grins. Lifts their joined hands to peck his knuckles, the thinness of his skin ticklish to her lips.

“After all, we promised to grow together. Didn’t we?” She raises her brows just a little as she meets his eye.

Yukiya smiles, slow and brilliant. When he nods, his hand lightly squeezes hers.


	100. Support - Reece & Azusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs it.

Azusa stares when she slips into his room, frozen in the motion of turning a page in his book – what kind Reece isn’t sure but she’s amusedly certain that if he keeps that look on his face it’ll stick forever. Before she can tease him about it, he regains his verbal and motor functions. Almost in a blink he’s up, book forgotten on his bed, crossing the room in four long strides and tugging her away from the door like it’s a snake that might bite.

She’s trying really, really hard not to giggle at the look he’s giving her as he shuts and locks the door – part confusion, disbelief, something like anger that isn’t quite. He turns to face her once he’s done with the door and appears to struggle with what he wants to say first.

Reece rocks back on her heels, fingers curled around the strap of the bag waiting over her shoulder. She gives him one of her brightest smiles as if she isn’t breaking quite a few rules at the moment – with dinner several hours over and curfew past as well.

“What do you think you are doing?!” He hisses, stepping closer to hover close to her. Not quite looming but near enough that it passes. His hands start to lift, pausing before he actually touches her arms, then settle for grasping her shoulders. They’re warm, she thinks, and their weight would be pleasant if it wasn’t for the stern grip. “Are you trying to get yourself into trouble?” He adds, slowly pushing her away from the room’s only door.

She moves with him, trusting him not to steer her into some piece of furniture even though walking backwards is more her roommate’s thing to do.

Besides, he’s isn’t hurting her at all.

“I came to see you, what else?” Reece plants her weight just as they reach the middle of the room, comfortably away from the door so that it’s less likely they’ll be overheard unless one of them raises their voice. Azusa doesn’t push her any further, hands still at her shoulders as he processes what she’s just said.

For a second she thinks there’s a flicker of surprise in his expression, maybe a bit of pleasure before he goes back to being what she’s starting to think of as fussy.

“And you decided to break dorm rules and curfew just for that?” Annoyance claims the throne for the most obvious emotion he displays before it shifts, becoming the smirk she knows reasonably well by now.

His thumbs brush over the ball joint of her shoulders, light and teasing.

“What could you possibly have had in that eager little mind of yours, hm?” His smile surprises her with its natural ease but she knows that, for all his shift in mood, he’s still upset somewhere in there.

“Well,” letting go of her bag’s strap Reece slides her fingers into the belt loops of his pants, keeping him in place, “I told Randy that he owed me a night alone with you after that stunt he pulled with his last experiment and he agreed after I told him Eleanor was baking cupcakes tonight.” Smiling, she cocks her head to the side as she watches Azusa’s smirk deepen.

“You sold her out.” He surmises, making Reece roll her eyes. She doesn’t unhook her fingers from his clothes but leans back until his hands pull her right back against him.

Blowing an errant bit of red hair from her face Reece meets his smirk with faint exasperation.

“If you want to put it bluntly, yes. You know as well as I do that he’s crazy for her and the sweets she makes.”

Azusa grunts noncommittally, the sound reverberating in his chest. She feels it vaguely through their shirts and it makes her smile.

“And you did all this for a night with me?” Her Buddy and boyfriend hums low in his throat, hands moving up from his shoulders to gently push her hair from her face. His palms are light against her cheeks and it’s the warmth from his hands making her turn a little pink, not the way he slowly smiles back or the tone he’s using.

“What about head count?” Azusa prompts, dragging her attention away from the way his lips look when he’s smiling. There’s a gleam in his eyes, she notices, and she’s certain he knows where she was staring.

Turning her head, Reece presses her cheek firmly into his right hand, grinning at the soft sound he makes as he waits for her to answer. “Shikigami.” She finally says, as if that one word covers everything.

Amusement and disbelief fight each other in his pretty blue eyes as he slips his fingers into her hair and lightly runs blunt nails over her scalp. It sends chilly trails down her back and he probably feels the tiny shiver that she can’t quite help. “How long were you planning on staying? For that matter,” his fingers still and hold her in place as his slow ministrations go back to stern admonishment, “ _how_ did you get in here?”

Reece arranges her expression into a pout, narrowing her eyes at him exaggeratedly. She can tell he doesn’t buy it because he’s wiped the sensual smirk from his face and his gaze remains serious. Briefly, her fingers tighten in the loops meant for his belts before she relaxes them.

“The night.” She admits, dropping the disappointed act. “And I got in through the basement. Aina said that Joel told her about it and that it’s never really watched. Klaus might not even know about it, but I’m not sure on that one.” Reece lifts her shoulders carefully in a miniature shrug, meeting Azusa’s eye evenly. He searches her face for a long moment, looking slightly perplexed at this tidbit of information.

Finally, he eases up – both in body language and his steady hold on her head. The pads of his thumbs brush over her temples like an unspoken apology and her mouth quirks on one side in response.

“Who is Aina again?” He asks, as though he truly doesn’t know.

Reece makes a face up at him. “I’m telling her you said that, you jerk.”

“Don’t. I have no need for any apple-themed desserts littering my doorstep.” Azusa huffs, eyes rolling just slightly. His fingers slip from her hair and his hands come to rest at the small of her back, fingers interlacing there. He tilts his head to one side, mimicking her earlier action. “Why did she feel the need to give you that information?”

“Because I asked.” Reece admits, thumbnail lightly running over one belt loop. “I didn’t want to ask Randy for an invisibility spell on such short notice, especially when he wouldn’t even be heading in this direction after I told him about Eleanor. They don’t come cheap, you know.” She adds, quirking a brow up at him.

Azusa’s lips twitch just faintly, but that’s the only change in his expression. “To my knowledge, he only asks for you to be a willing participant in his experiments in exchange.”

Reece deliberately snorts, tilting herself up on the tips of her toes to peck his cheek. He goes still at the faint touch, fingers tightening briefly against her back once she’s set herself back down.

“Sometimes I want to find easier ways to spend time with you.” Smiling, she lets go of his belt loops to slide her arms around him, fingers curling against the softness of his shirt. “Now let me go so I can change.”

“You just started holding on to me.” He groused. Even so he unwound his fingers and let her go, heading towards his bed as she dug around in her bag for pajamas.

He sat on his bed, once more lifting his book to reading level and didn’t glance in her direction at all as she moved to Randy’s bed in order to set her bag down and change into her nightwear. She glanced at him, twice admittedly, to check but Azusa didn’t so much as shift from where he was sitting.

Setting her shoes by the door, next to his and where Randy’s would have been had he been home, and placing her bag on one of the coat hooks on the back of the door Reece padded her way over to join him. He moved when she went to sit, eyes still focused on the page before him and she stayed quiet as she settled on the neat blankets cross-legged.

When she glanced at the book out of curiosity, she quickly gave up any hope of reading it – the writing in Hinomoto’s unique style and he was towards the middle of the book.

One corner of his mouth briefly quirked, like he knew what she’d been trying to do.

Several minutes passed in companionable silence. He remained focused on his book and Reece busied her hands with braiding her hair, watching the subtle changes in his expression from the corner of her eye as he read. When she was done Reece glanced at the bed they were sitting on and gave an unoccupied spot a careful poke. Azusa didn’t so much as quirk a brow.

The beds in the girl’s dorm weren’t bad by any means, but his felt softer for some reason. A part of her silently wondered how long it had taken him to get used to sleeping in what Gedonelune considered a bed, versus what he used in Hinomoto.

“The timing of this visit wouldn’t happen to purposely coincide with Tsukasa’s passing, would it?” Azusa murmured, softly enough that Reece didn’t hear him at first. When she turned her head his eyes caught hers, book still in his hand but completely forgotten.

She flushed, a mix of guilt and shame tightening her stomach.

He didn’t look mad, not that he let her see. His expression was all smooth calm, gaze expectant as he watched her.

“I would have snuck in even if it didn’t, you know.” Reece said it softly, resisting the urge to twist her fingers over the fabric of her sleep pants. “But I thought you might want someone quieter than Randy to be with you.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but she wasn’t quick enough to catch it before he tucked it away.

He looked away first, dropping a bookmark between the pages of his book to mark his place before leaning to set it aside on the table all dorms had beside the beds. Reece bit her lip as he straightened up, unsure what to do as slowly stretched out his legs and didn’t resist when his fingers lightly tugged at her sleeve.

Shifting to sit beside him, she was surprised when he slid an arm around her and pulled her down as he lay on his back. Tucked against his side, head carefully resting against his shoulder, Reece cautiously put her arm around him as well. Neither of them said anything for a while, his heart beat loud in her ear as she listened to it and waited.

“I appreciate the thought.” His voice sounded different with her ear so close to his chest, but she didn’t point out the faint waver in it.

Instead she squeezed him lightly, smiling a little when he grunted.

“Next time I expect you’ll climb through the window at this rate.” Azusa mused, the hand that wasn’t keeping her solidly against him coming up to tease her hair. What she hadn’t managed to braid, at least.

“Is that a challenge?” She asked, lifting her head to look at him, smiling when he faintly scowled.

“Such a troublesome girl.” He shot back, pushing her head back down so he could continue to mess with her hair.

Reece didn’t mind. It felt nice to hold him for once.


	101. Progress - Aina & Joel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a period of separation, things are (cautiously) set in motion.

Joel has only a moment to widen his eyes in surprise before Aina grabs his hand and pulls him down the hallway, all the way to the first floor of classes and out into the courtyard. He doesn’t resist, he can’t really, and even though he’s taller than her by no small margin he’s finding it a little difficult to keep up with her quick stride. She doesn’t say anything to him as she leads, hand tight but not meant to hurt around his own.

It’s the most contact he’s had with her since they’d returned from the Fairy Garden two years ago, he realizes. His mind proceeds to go into overdrive almost, swimming with this knowledge and the rush of sensation and emotion that comes with it.

“Wh-where are we going?” He manages to ask, nearly tripping over his own feet as she tugs him along the path that would take them towards the North Forest.

Aina stays silent, facing straight ahead with an air of determination that makes his stomach clench a little with dread. Joel finds himself curling his fingers over what he can reach of her own, trying to reassure himself.

Unless he completely imagines it, she squeezes his hand once, very quickly.

He hopes he wasn’t imagining it.

They finally come to a stop just shy of the forest itself, the shade pleasant over his skin as he tries to get his breath back. Aina is in a similar state and she hasn’t let go of his hand yet. She’s still not facing him though and he notices that she has one arm tucked close to her body as though cradling something.

Or she’s hurting. His heart rate picks up again at that thought, possibilities running through his mind. Before he can ask however, she slowly releases his hand and uses it to tuck her hair back. Finally, she turns to look at him and he can barely make out something small and almost cylindrical tucked against her torso under her cloak.

Her cheeks are still pink and she’s just gotten her breath back when they make eye contact.

“Sorry.” She says, several expressions crossing her face as she looks at him. He hears the awkwardness in her tone and carefully wipes his confusion from his face, remembering to draw his hand back to his side now that she’s released it.

“It’s alright.” He glances around, not seeing anything particularly interesting or special about the spot they’ve stopped in. It’s nice in its own way, he supposes. The trees provide enough shade to be comfortable in and the grass is long and green at their feet. It looks soft. Joel lifts his gaze back to Aina’s, swallowing past a slightly dry throat as he asks, “Is everything okay?”

The smile she works up isn’t entirely genuine and he suspects that she knows he can see right through it. He thinks about commenting on it, but she’s the one who speaks first.

“I didn’t want anybody to overhear us. Sorry I just dragged you off like that.” Her apology is sincere and he nods to show he accepts it. She takes a second to look around them, surprising him when she lifts her free hand to her cloak and unties it. The heavy fabric falls and she sort of manages to catch it, he starts forward before he can help himself but she doesn’t pull back.

That detail alone makes his heart skip.

“Sorry. Didn’t really think that one through did I?” Her face lights up with a smile just for a second, it’s only through practice that he keeps his face blank and call her silly.

She huffs at him, but he helps her spread out her cloak over the grass, adding his own to give them more room. It reminds him a little of the picnics they’d shared as children, when she knew him as a girl. As June.

Joel pushes the thought from his mind, moving to sit when Aina does.

She’s still holding that wrapped something, taking care to set it down gently between them. He finds himself staring at it, trying to decipher what it might be by shape alone as she digs things out of her schoolbag. She’d attached a longer strap to it, he realized belatedly, allowing her to carry it over one shoulder rather than by hand. It explained why he hadn’t seen it at first.

“What’s this all about?” He asks quietly, watching as she slides him a fork before taking one for himself.

“Don’t rush me.” She hums, drawing a plastic knife and two small plates out form her bag then setting the latter aside. Once the plates are set she finally reaches for the wrapped object he’d seen her carrying, unwinding the cloth to reveal a covered dish of some kind.

Joel catches himself wondering if she was actually allowed to take that out of the dorm and feels his lips twitch upwards.

Aina pops the lid from the dish and he knows at once what it is. His favorite – her homemade sweet roll cake. The last time he’d had some was…

He shuts the thought down before it can go any further. His stomach chooses that moment to gurgle, reminding him that this was supposed to be lunch break. Looking up from the cake, he found Aina staring at him – expression set in familiar mischief.

“Hungry much?” She asks, knowing exactly what the answer is.

“Why did you make the cake look like that annoying bug?” He shoots back, only a faint bit of weight to the words. He’d noticed it a moment after she’d taken the lid off the cake dish, the pale blue and white of cake and icing reminiscent of a certain loud-mouthed fairy. The accent of golden leaves had convinced him of the reference – part of him wondered how long it had taken her to add that much detail and whether she’d been able to remain dry-eyed through the decorating.

Even with the distance they, _he_ , had maintained for the past two years he knew she still missed Eress.

He did too, sometimes.

As if reading his mind, Aina sent him a look from beneath her lashes, steadying the cake as she carefully cut a slice with her other hand. “Because I know we miss her and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Gave me the chance to practice my piping.”

She looks proud of herself. He feels proud of her as well.

“Did you do it all yourself?” Joel finds himself asking, taking the slice of cake she offers him. The question earns him a quick, suspicious look and a faint pout.

It’s gone in the next second and Aina cuts some cake for herself, voice quiet as she concentrates on not getting too many crumbs or icing on their cloaks. “Eleanor helped. You know, Randy March’s girlfriend? She’s good with baking by hand.”

There’s the flicker of a smile on her face and he watches it, chest tight.

“I asked her to show me how she does it and we’ve been spoiling the girls in the dorm with sweets.” Aina adds, setting the knife down once she’s down and licking a smear of icing from her thumb. “Though I’m pretty sure Randy makes off with a bunch too, considering he’s an addict to sweets.”

“Probably.” He agrees, not really thinking about it.

Randy March he knows only because he really has no other choice. The older student is loud wherever he goes, easy to pick out in a crowd with his brightly colored hair and candy-themed baubles. He’d been surprised to see the girl named Eleanor trailing after him, unable to comprehend how she could have the patience with such a person.

“You didn’t ask… Delia? Is that her name?” He tries it out carefully, wracking his memory for the name. They passed each other in the hall sometimes, but he only knew of her because of some commotion she’d help break up between two students in Fortitudo. Luca Orlem had been one of those involved, he vaguely recalled.

“I thought about it.” Aina admitted, sitting back with her legs tucked to the side. Her slice of cake was wobbly, whereas she’d made his almost perfectly straight. She didn’t seem to mind, lifting her fork to break off a piece of the treat on her plate. “But she’s been taking extra courses with Headmaster Randolph for her major. She and Eleanor are both majoring in Magical Creature Ecology, but Eleanor had the time.”

Joel made an affirmative noise, savoring his own bite of cake. Light and just sweet enough, the filling and icing not too heavy. It tasted just like it had back when she’d made it for him when they were kids, the nostalgia loosening some of the knots in his stomach.

When he opened his eyes, Aina was watching him with her expression caught between laughter and embarrassment.

“You enjoying yourself over there, Joel?” She asked, popping another piece of cake into her mouth with a quirked brow.

He refused to flush, instead rolling his eyes faintly as he took another bite. Larger than he’d intended, some of the icing smeared across his mouth. Possibly his cheek as well. As he frowned over it, carefully wiping at where he thought it was, Aina laughed at him.

Joel sent her an unimpressed look, setting her off again. But she dug into her bag and passed him a slightly crumpled, but clean, napkin. He wiped his face, feeling his cheeks grow slightly warm. She waited until he’d finished cleaning his mess before shaking her head, shifting to get more comfortable.

“I will admit that there was a hidden motive to all this.” She ventured after several moments of pleasant quiet, not looking at him as she brushed the pad of her thumb over the edge of her plate. The breeze teased her hair out from behind her ears, green wisps briefly obscuring her expression until she pulled them back again.

He paused, throat slowly constricting around the cake he’d been swallowing. It continued downwards once he swallowed again, uncomfortable as it went. “Okay.” He tried, hating the uncertainty in his own voice.

She looked at him after another strained moment, face set into a serious look, her eyes for once giving nothing away.

His stomach twisted a little more.

“I wanted to say thank you for giving me time to think, Joel. I… I didn’t think you would.” Aina frowned, seemingly at herself for the brief moment of hesitance. He tried not to think too hard on what she meant by that, even though he knew himself well enough to guess.

He hadn’t exactly been fair in many of their encounters. He wanted to make up for that, make it all better.

“You’re welcome.” He says, not sure if he should add to it or not.

She smiles, once, before smoothing her face out again. Her voice is steadier when she tries again. “The other thing was along the same lines, sorta. I…” She paused, swallowing. Then she took a slow, careful breath in before letting it out. “I want to be friends again. I haven’t decided beyond that but…” Green eyes sought his and he made himself meet them, part of him elated. The other part waited for the ‘but’ to drop.

“I’m… open to trying.” Aina finished, with a bit of effort.

He could see she was telling the truth and that it was difficult for her.

“Okay.” He said, willing himself not to sound too relieved or desperate, for his hand not to tighten so much around the plate of cake.


	102. Dynamic - Arum & Luca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a certain kind of chemistry.

“I’m not so sure about this.” Doubt laces every word as Arum speaks, reflecting the uncertainty of her expression as she watches Luca brew the tea. He’s surprisingly good at it, only adding a little flourish every so often like he wants to impress someone. Her, maybe. Or the crowd that will be judging them at the event.

Green eyes lift from the teapot, humor and a gentle sort of reassurance in their depths. She doesn’t know where he learned that sort of stare but it works, surprising her in the process.

“What’s got you doubting?” Luca hums softly around the words, setting the teapot down on the table they’d been practicing around. The Archives are silent around them and while that’s not unusual it makes Arum think of all the stares that will take up the empty space once Gedoneferia properly starts. A little more of Luca’s good humor rises up to the surface and he breaks butler protocol to lean one hip against the table as he looks at her. “Don’t trust me?” He asks, voice light and soft and as if he doesn’t blame her at all if she doesn’t.

If it were that simple, things might go a little easier.

“I don’t trust myself, that’s the problem.” She replies, trying her best not to slouch in her seat. Her back feels stiff from sitting straight but she’s afraid that if she doesn’t keep at it she’ll forget her posture during the event. Running her fingers over the edge of her sleeve rather than plucking at it like she wants to, she cautiously asks the question that’s been lurking in the back of her mind. “Is there a reason you decided not to join in with the group program this year? The café idea worked great last year.”

Luca’s lips purse a little at that, his head tilting slightly to the side as he thinks. Or pretend to think. She not sure which it is, but he’d been surprisingly driven to do the Butler Competition rather than a café or a musical this year. The idea sounded fun in theory – who didn’t want to play dress-up a little? – but he was the one that had a talent for acting.

When she looked up at him he seemed decided, one hand idly resting on the tabletop as he leaned his weight against it. The ghost of a smile passed over his face as he looked back at her and she felt her face warm up just a bit.

“I wanted to join the competition this year because we were running all over during the last Gedoneferia.” His shoulders lifted a scant bit, returning to their previous position a second later. “It was fun, but musicals aren’t really my thing and I wouldn’t get to spend near as much time with you if we did that.” He smiled at the end of that sentence, eyes curving up at the corners.

“And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Elias said he and Mami were competing?” She teases, relaxing a little as Luca’s expression twists with faint annoyance at the reminder. It settles quickly into amusement though.

He lifts a hand, tucking back a stray lock of green hair and fixes her with a half-lidded stare that makes her stomach flutter. “If I give my lady my most solemn vow that I did not agree to this competition to show up His Highness, would she believe me?” Luca draws out the words, affecting an accent that she could recall hearing the previous year during the Butler Competition.

It makes her giggle anyway and she has to cover her mouth with one hand in an attempt to smother the sound.

“I’d try.” She manages around the curve of her hand, trying not to laugh any harder as Luca’s smile widens. It works a little, which helps her sober up for her next question. “Would you mean it?”

His smile takes on a mischievous edge, but he pushes it down as he straightens up. Arum doesn’t expect him to cross the distance, short as it is, between them and take her hands in his own. Hers are more calloused, though they’ve gotten a little softer since she started attending the Academy. His fingers feel smooth against her palms, roughened only from turning the pages of books and drawing. But somehow he makes her feel more like a lady as he kisses her knuckles, looking up at her through his bangs as he does so.

When his lips leave her skin he says, “I promise.”

Arum can feel her mouth wanting to curve upward, both at the lingering impish light in her boyfriend’s eyes and at the intimacy of the gesture. She tightens her fingers around his in a brief squeeze and finally lets the smile break through.

“Alright. Let’s take it from the top then, even if the tea’s gone cold.”

He laughs and she joins in a second later, the sound filling up their corner of the Archives.

If they can laugh like this, she thinks, it’ll be fun no matter who wins.


	103. A Little Revenge - Aina Dunn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Better than cold, serve it with whipped topping.

A knock at his office door made him look up and he knew without turning around that his colleague had also turned towards the sound. Without standing, he raised his voice just enough to be heard. “Enter.”

The door opened with a careful creak but no one immediately came into view. He raised a brow at that, then felt his stern expression slacken somewhat as a familiar head of long green hair edged into his office.

Aina Dunn closed the door with a soft push with her hip, schoolbag dangling from one wrist precariously, arms laden with covered dishes and several jars. He caught the scent of apples and sugar, immediately narrowing his gaze in disapproval as the girl gingerly tottered towards his desk.

He would have preferred an impromptu visit from Luca, troublesome as he was, compared to this.

The provincial student set the jars on his desk first, adjusting her burden with care so as not to drop anything. Looking at them confirmed what he already knew - jam and preserves, handmade no less. The lids of the jars were unadorned, as was the glass of the jars themselves. He counted three of them before she set the two larger covered dishes before him, both of them circular.

At least one had to be some sort of pie, he reasoned, ignoring the aura of amusement practically dripping from his other visitor.

His visitor who, after putting the essay he’d been reading aside, had stood to assist the girl in depositing the remaining items onto the nearest available surface. His desk now looked like a fortress, blocked off by apple-scented confections.

“What is the meaning of this, Dunn? I gave you the task of getting rid of these, not returning them.” Lifting his gaze to the girl’s face, he caught the quick flash of smugness in her close-lipped smile.

Doubtless his colleague had as well.

The lass pulled her arms back to her sides, straightening up to her full height as though preparing to deliver a speech. “Sir, you asked me to get rid of the apples themselves. And I did.” Her smile grew for a second, as did the faint twinkle in her eye. “I handed out the majority to my classmates and some to the upperclassmen. Professor Merkulova was kind enough to accept some of the cupcakes and a pie.”

Her eyes slid to his colleague, a hint of pink rising in her cheeks. “You weren’t in your office sir, but I did leave some on your desk.”

The man had the gall to laugh, rich and gentle.

Aina turned back to him, lifting a hand to point out each item. “That’s jam, I mixed in a bit of honey to make it sweeter but if you don’t like that there’s cinnamon in the other one.” Her finger moved to demonstrate. “The third one’s more apple butter, but it’s still a spread. Some people don’t like it because it can be bitter.”

She leaned a little to tap one of the covered treats, a wider smile spreading across her face. “This is Reitz apple pie, but I promise there’s no alcohol in it.”

He couldn’t help but raise a brow at that.

“And this, sir,” she gently uncovered the second dish, setting it aside. Within the pan was a golden-brown crust, soft and flaky looking, still steaming gently. In the center was a hefty dollop of whipped cream, slightly melted from the heat. “is apple cobbler. This is the last of it.”

She straightened up, still smiling and looking proud of herself before curtsying and heading for the door. “See you in class, Professor!”

The heavy wood opened, closed, all with a soft click and a light thud.

He glared after her, putting every bit of his attention into not looking at the other man in the room.

“She is rather spirited, isn’t she?” Randolph chuckled, lifting his wand as if to cast. He could feel brown eyes staring at him, crinkled in mirth, but refused to acknowledge it. With a muttered word and a wisp of light, two saucers and forks now added themselves to the fortifications on his desk, accompanied by a large serving spoon.

“Come now, Conrad, don’t be sour. Let’s try a bit.” Randolph was already reaching for the spoon, cheerfully scooping himself some cobbler.

_“No.”_ He hissed, pushing away from his desk in disgust.


	104. Something to Follow - Cameron & Leon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look at Cameron Varner, my character for Leon, and the events before reaching the Academy.

“You should definitely try at least.” Olivia pressed, exhaling a puff of air as she struggled to lift her basket of linens. It wasn’t overflowing, just awkward and cumbersome for the redhead’s shorter arms. After a moment she had it, smiling triumphantly as she blew a bit of hair out of her face. Her eyes fixed on them as they continued folding, a distinct prickle on their scalp confirming that the girl hadn’t looked away.

“After all,” Olivia hummed gently, making them look up, “you’re the only one here besides Richard that’s been trained in magic. Why not take the chance to learn more? Better yourself and all that.” She grinned, obviously charmed by the idea herself.

They watched the way a faint flush took over the girl’s cheeks, how her mouth curved and the delighted twinkle in her brown eyes. Slowly, like someone learning to hold a pen for the first time, they tried to imitate the expression.

It felt odd, the arrangement of facial muscles still unfamiliar after several years. But Olivia only smiled wider, drawing up beside them with the basket hoisted on her hip and gave them a pat on the shoulder.

“At least think about it, Cameron. You could do better than here.” The smile on the girl’s face softened as she said it, her fingers gently squeezing their shoulder before she had to leave to put up the fresh linens.

They watched her go, features arranging themselves into their usual neutral expression. Then they turned back to their work after glancing at the clock, scarred hands moving in easy, efficient motions. Folding was repetitive work but they weren’t allowed to do the washing anymore and it made the time go by.

Silence, or near enough to it, settled in the room. Eugenia’s occasional grunt or huff was the only thing louder than the rustle of fabric, the older woman their only companion for the moment.

They paid less attention to the cloth in front of them, motions now so familiar that it required no thought at all.

It wasn’t until Eugenia spoke that they were drawn out of the trance they’d slipped into, hands pausing for a brief moment as they shifted their attention.

“She has a point, even if it the stuff of daydreams.” The older woman didn’t look at them as she said it, snapping out one of shirts the master of the house wore before folding it with neat, crisp swiftness.

Cameron said nothing, not because they weren’t interested in what the woman had to say. For the older maid to say anything at all on the topic was new and more than a little unexpected – hence their silence as they waited for her to continue.

A solid thump sent vibrations through the table they were bent over, drawing their attention up from the newly pristine cloth under their fingers. Eugenia’s face, tanned and slightly wrinkled, was close enough for them to see a handful of spots that may have been freckles as she unloaded the most recently dry laundry.

Their eyes met, stern green to blue, and in a tone no less serious than when she gave out tasks from the head maid in the morning she said, “You’ve a talent according to the madam. I wouldn’t believe it if she didn’t say it herself. But I think you should try for the Academy, even if you don’t end up getting in. It’s better than letting that magic of yours going to waste.”

With that, the older woman turned away and left the room to move on to the next task for the day. As with Olivia they watched her go, unable to put a name to the odd compressed feeling in their chest.

Their hands were slower as they resumed the folds, the usual quiet of their thoughts now turning with this strange idea.

-

Of course, Richard wouldn’t tell them about the application if they asked. They had tried, after watching him during their shared afternoon tutoring from the madam and slowly assuring themselves that he was in a better mood than usual. After his mother had left them be once they’d completed the lesson he’d stared at them with a look they had seen him direct at others before.

Wide eyes and furrowed brow, mouth slightly agape. As though he wanted to say something but the words had failed somewhere on the trek from his mind to his lips.

They recognized it as surprise, not quite realizing in time what came with it.

“Did you huff that many fumes today? You want to get into the Academy?” His face darkened towards the end, furrow of his brow growing deeper as he stared at them. Anger, they thought, though why he was reacting that way they couldn’t have said.

They didn’t say that it was Olivia’s idea, somewhat endorsed by Eugenia. Those two were nice enough in their own way, had been, for as long as they had been a member of the household.

“Is there something wrong with wanting to go?” They asked, only aware that they were playing with the edge of their sleeve because of the shift of muscle in their shoulder rather than their arm or fingers. Once they became aware of it, they stopped.

Richard’s breath left him in a harsh sigh, eyes rolling in their sockets before narrowing in their direction once more. “You’re a servant. You should be happy that my mother took the time to educate you at all – things far above your station, I hope you realize.”

They didn’t nod or shake their head. Simply looked at him the way they were only allowed to do in his mother’s makeshift classroom.

Some of the color left Richard’s face under their stare, as it always did when they made eye contact for longer than a few seconds. He’d never told them why, no one had, but he was not the only one to have had such a reaction.

“I’m not ungrateful to her, Richard.” They said, tone soft.

“You don’t even know what gratitude is.” He spat, moving to step around them and head for the door. It slammed a little on his way out – a habit of his they had never attempted to copy because slamming doors wasn’t appropriate. Especially not by his mother’s standards.

They stood exactly as they had before he left, not looking at anything at all. The sunlight turned their shoes into a warmer brown than they usually possessed, that and the stillness of the room all things they were aware of – but not entirely.

They made sure not to make any loud sounds as they finally left, moving without thinking, body attuned to a schedule that required no significant input anymore.

It came as a surprise – the feeling, surprise, it was like a rush through their system, a tightening of muscles and a quickening heartbeat, wider eyes than normal and a different sort of blankness in their mind as they processed it – when the madam sent for her before the time of their scheduled lessons two weeks later. They had stared at the head maid, dimly aware of the severe woman’s mounting impatience, and finally remembered to finish their task before cleaning their hands on their apron to follow her upstairs.

They were left at the madam’s office door a warning not to make a fool of themselves ringing in their ears from the head maid before she walked away.

They knocked twice, fingers lightly curled against their palm, each tap of their knuckles on wood carefully measured.

“Enter.” The door muffled the voice, but they still heard it.

The interior of the madam’s office was well-lit, windows along the back wall letting in plenty of sunlight. It was warm, even with the sternness of the woman seated at her desk. Bookshelves stood straight and tall against two of the walls, spines of textbooks, histories and others arranged by alphabet and subject.

They stopped just before the desk, dipping in a curtesy as they’d been taught. Keeping their eyes on the rug covering the floorboards, they lifted their voice just enough to be heard. “Good morning, Ma’am. You sent for me?”

For a moment nothing was said, only the faint creak of the madam’s chair breaking the silence.

It creaked again, louder this time, and they heard the woman take in a slow, considering breath.

“My son has mentioned that you expressed a desire to apply for tuition at Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy.” Her tone is similar to the one she uses when she is teaching magic – low enough to be authoritative, one that will accept questions but no foolishness.

They found themselves swallowing around a sudden dryness in their mouth, fixating on the weave of browns and golds beneath their feet. Perhaps they should have thought about whether Richard would talk to someone else about it, but it was too late to consider it now.

Tentatively they raised their eyes up to the desk, just enough to catch a glimpse of the madam’s hands resting on their sides with fingers interlaced.

“I meant no offense Ma’am.” Cameron murmured, familiar enough with the feeling of nervousness to be sure that was what they were experiencing at the moment.

“Offense?” The word had an upward lilt of intonation, as though it had not been on the madam’s mind at all. What followed surprised them just as much, a soft kind of half-laugh.

“I suppose I should be offended, considering the circumstances.” The madam paused as she trailed off, the feeling of eyes prickling over their skin as they waited. It did not take long for the woman to continue, her voice soft and matter-of-fact. “I’m afraid that I’m still too much of a teacher to truly take offense if someone wishes for the chance to educate themselves. But if I am to support you in this, I would like to know the truth for myself.”

The expectant tone in her voice led them into lifting their gaze the rest of the way, meeting eyes with the woman that had taken them in after the accident.

“Ma’am?”

“Is this something you want for yourself, Cameron, or are you going along with another person’s desires?” There was a sharpness in her eyes and voice, the distinct warning that their answer had best be honest. Otherwise she sat perfectly upright, hands still interlaced before her, waiting. The mid-morning sunlight glinted off her coppery hair, cast her shadow out in a long stretch on the floor.

Lowering their eyes, Cameron thought about it. It would not be a lie to say no and admit it had been someone else’s idea to begin with, an idea that had been brought up time and again ever since it had come to light that they possessed magical abilities. But…

The idea, vague and more than a little patchy, seemed interesting at least. And they knew that there were forms of magic that the madam had not, or could not, teach them and her son.

What could they do if they learned more, opened the door just a little more to this part of themselves they didn’t know how to understand?

“I… I would like to learn. Know more.” They met the madam’s eye as they said it, only aware that they were unconsciously grasping the skirt of their uniform too tightly because of the way the weight of the fabric changed. With effort, they let it go.

They didn’t move as the madam looked them over, head to toe and back, as the quiet stretched out between them.

At length, the woman nodded. Her expression smoothed out, apparently satisfied, and she reached for one of the drawers of her desk. Several sheets of parchment, cream-colored and important looking, were drawn out and the madam set them down before her.

“Come here and we shall begin. It is best to make the attempt early in the year.”

Slowly, unfamiliar thoughts circling in their head, they obeyed.

-

The source of the commotion revealed itself to be a floating sheet of parchment that looked as though it had yellowed slightly from age, ink turning a soft shade of brown when they managed to spot it. It was quivering as though agitated, hovering just above the head maid’s shoulder. The woman herself wore a drawn-in expression they had never seen before, her lips pinched together tightly and brows slightly furrowed.

“He says he is here for you.” Matching her expression, the words were said tightly, as though she were checking herself. Even so, they thought they could glimpse a bit of disbelief in the older maid’s face.

Looking at the paper, they thought it resembled some sort of letter.

Then, it talked.

“Would you happen to be Miss Cameron Varner?” Its voice, despite the utter lack of a throat and vocal cords, carried easily in the kitchen – not necessarily deep and not unpleasant, though it possessed an arch tone they recognized.

“I’m not a Miss, but that is my name.” They answered, watching it curl its edges with a degree of fascination, forgetting that they were up to their elbows in steaming water and suds.

From the corner of their vision, they saw the head maid’s expression sour once more. Olivia and Eugenia watched them openly however, Olivia’s eyes wide with excitement.

“Well, I suppose that is a conversation for another time.” The letter straightened itself out with an air of importance, voice smoothing out as it spoke with an almost imperious authority. “I am the Acceptance Letter of Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy, here to collect you. Would you be so kind as to collect your things so that we might be along? I had to search high and low for you everywhere before someone was willing to point out the way.”

It sounded rather put-out about that, they noticed. How it managed it without facial expressions and a body in general still fascinated them.  
Eugenia quirked the thinnest smile they had ever seen from behind the letter and the head maid, the latter’s cheeks turning a dusky pink.

Olivia covered her mouth with one hand, uncaring that her skin was covered in juices from the peppers she’d been slicing.

Cameron hesitated, straightening up with care and glancing at their sodden arms, the dampness that had crept into their rolled up sleeves and apron. The exposed skin of their forearms was a bright, angry pink but they didn’t feel the twinge of pain until they looked.

“I... I will try to be quick.” They answered, unsure where to even begin.  
The head maid decided for them, crisply telling the letter to wait out by the front entrance. It shuddered, from what Cameron wasn’t sure, but finally complied after a moment of grumbling. They weren’t given time to think on it, shoulder being taken in a tight grip as the older woman pulled her from the kitchen.

Olivia waved, her face alight with excited joy. Across from her, Eugenia only nodded, that faint smile still on her lips.

They wanted to remember it, so they stared until they were pulled too far away to look.

“The things that happen in this house because of you.” The head maid muttered, hand still tight on their shoulder, enough that Cameron could actually feel it through the fabric of their uniform.

They said nothing, walking briskly to avoid being dragged.

-

It was the first time they had ever traveled by train and so the scenery passing by occupied much of their attention as the car rattled on with the rest, pulled steadily towards the capital of Gedonelune. The Letter had said that it would take some time, longer from Ilgato than it would have from Reitz or another, closer, prefecture. It had also said that it was a blessing they had not needed to switch trains, but they weren’t sure what the trouble would have been if they had.

Their bag rested against their knees, pressing down on the heavy skirt the madam had given them. It was long, longer than the skirt of her maid’s uniform, and it felt softer when they had run curious fingers over it. The blouse and suit jacket had come with it to complete the ensemble, a remnant of the madam’s days as a professor of an all girl’s magic academy.

It fit nicely - and so long as they were careful not to catch the skirt on anything and get holes in it the madam didn’t mind them having it.

“Now that we’re not in the company of eavesdroppers,” the voice of the Acceptance Letter dragged their attention from the window, making them blink. “I would like to ask how you would like to be referred to – since, as you say, you are not a ‘Miss’.”

They watched as the Letter’s edges curled faintly, almost managing to seem embarrassed as it hovered across from them.

It was the first person to really ask such a question, so they had to think about it.

“Is it really that important?” They asked softly, tilting their head slightly to the side as they’d seen others do.

The Letter hesitated, bobbing a little as it searched for its voice. “As your companion at present, I would like to know how to address you in a respectful manner. Making any preferences you have for yourself known at this time might make it easier for you in the future once you reach the Academy. If you are willing, of course.” It added hastily, fluttering in the air.

Their eyes slid back towards the window, partly in disinterest but more so to lessen the chance of missing something. Their voice didn’t hold much inflection when they spoke, eyes tracking a bent and twisted tree until it passed out of sight. “I’ve never thought of myself as a girl or a boy. Everyone always assumed, no matter if I told them I wasn’t a girl. But if you have to call me something I suppose it could be ‘Miss’, since that’s what everyone says.”

A crinkling noise drew their attention back towards the Letter, blue eyes widening at the sight of it slightly folded up.

“Letter…?”

It shifted, straightening out once more but when it spoke the tone it used was heavy. Offended. “That is an unfortunate experience you have been made to endure. For my part, I do apologize.”

They stared at it, features slack with a lack of emotion save for a curious lilt in their voice. “Why?”

“Why what?” The Letter fluttered again, somehow conveying confusion as it did.

“Why apologize? You didn’t know. The madam’s always called me a girl.” Their shoulders lifted a fraction of an inch, as though they meant to shrug but lacked the actual drive to follow through. “You’re the first person to ask about that and actually listen, so there’s no point to you apologizing.”

A thoughtful quiet descended after that, the Letter ceasing to bob as it floated over the seat. Cameron turned their attention back to the window, lacking any particular focus as they watched trees and fields pass by. Once, they thought there might have been a mansion of some kind passing by – but even that failed to coax them out of their internal space.

“Well, would it be acceptable for me to call you by your name for now? We are nearly there, I should think – perhaps a few more hours at the most.” The Acceptance Letter hummed that last part to itself, flexing its edges as though stretching.

“Sure.” They mumbled back, looking past their reflection in the window’s glass to take in the flashes of scenery.


	105. Where They are Now - Eleanor, Taffy, Serge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor Thomas, some ten years after graduating from the Academy.

“Feel free to call me if she doesn’t improve.” The snap of the clasps on her bag filled the air as she finished putting her tools away, a smile directed at the taller man who nodded with relief. One of his hands gently stroked the Wing Rabbit’s fur, features softening as the little creature butted its head against his palm.

“Will she be able to fly soon? I know she misses it.” He looked at her again with a familiar kind of worry in his expression but his hand was steady as it smoothed down his familiar’s pink fur.

She nodded, reaching into the side pocket of her bag to draw out a small wrapped treat. The Wing Rabbit’s nose twitched as she handed it to her customer, red eyes moving back and forth between them with a curious expectation.

“Give it to her once her stomach’s settled. It won’t speed up the process any, but after three days she should be able to fly again. Try and stay away from those dogs again, okay? She’s fast, but if she sprains her wing again it won’t be good.”

The man nodded, cheeks pink at the reminder and pocketed the treat. His familiar let out a soft disappointed sound and they both chuckled over it.

“Thanks again. Usually we don’t get many people who know how to take care of magical creatures.” His smile was bright, full of gratitude, and Eleanor smiled back easily.

“Magical Creature Ecology was my field of study at the Academy. I travel with my husband and we study the plants and animals we encounter, so it’s no trouble.” Inclining her head respectfully, Eleanor hoisted her bag off the table and turned to collect Taffy from the armchair he’d settled into.

The little bear woke almost immediately as she lifted him, rubbing at his eyes with his paws to get the sleep out. “Eleanor? Are we done?”

“That’s right, Taffy. We’re heading home now. Thank you for all your help today.” Her praise made a blush rise to the plush’s soft cheeks and he giggled happily as she cradled him against her chest. His doctor’s coat rustled against her sleeve, the collar no longer neatly folded, but she could fix that once they were on their way.

She managed a wave over her shoulder at her customer before opening the door and stepping out into the mid-morning sun. Taffy stretched in her arms contentedly, playing with the stethoscope she’d made for him as she started walking.

“Taffy helped Eleanor?” The bear’s voice was soft, curious and hopeful. He was watching her with large eyes, long ears swaying with her every step.

With her free hand Eleanor smoothed down the patch of fluff on the crown of his head, smiling as he leaned into it with a happy sigh. “You did Taffy. You got his Wing Rabbit to calm down so I could talk to her. Thank you.”

Another giggle brought a smile to her face and she couldn’t help but join in, bag bumping lightly against her hip. She got a couple of stares for it but she paid them no mind. Checking the signs to make sure she hadn’t gotten lost, Eleanor turned down the street that would take them to their rented apartment.

“What do you think we should have for lunch, Taffy? The weather’s nice, so maybe we can have sandwiches with Serge.” The thought made her chest feel light and warm, as it often did.

Taffy stopped playing with his stethoscope long enough to think, ears drooping a little as he did. “Master said he was going to make Eleanor lunch. He said so before he left this morning. Master wanted to make it a surprise.”

He grinned up at her, oblivious to the small knot of concern replacing the happy thought of being able to meet with her husband for a meal besides dinner.

“Did he now? Maybe… Maybe we should hurry.” She quickened her step even as she said it, holding Taffy close so he wouldn’t get jostled.


	106. Where They are Now - Delia & Yukiya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia Ritter and the life that's been built after the Academy.

Her bees seemed to be fond of teasing her today. Their little voices rose and fell in a harmonious rhythm as four of them circled her as she planted the newest batch of flowers in the front walkway, wings occasionally brushing her arm or cheek as they passed. Each of them seemed to have made a guess as to whether she’ll have another boy or girl in the coming months, the unanimous belief that no matter what she’d be having twins was starting to make her believe it too.

She hadn’t asked what Yukiya thought yet, for all it teased her mind sometimes.

Sweat tickled her skin as several beads of it slowly ran down her back and from her temple. A flutter of wings and then another sensation took its place – tiny feet moving carefully as one of the bees that had been hovering near followed the trail of moisture, gathering it up. Delia stayed still as it finished, carefully dusting off her hands once the bee had taken flight again.

Taking a moment to enjoy the sight of hyacinths swaying lightly in the breeze she finally let herself admit that it was probably time for a break. She stuck her tools back in their holsters, slowly pushing herself up from where she had been kneeling. Her back ached from the angle she’d stayed bent at, the feeling slowly easing as she stretched.

The walkway was done, weeds pulled and flowers planted, more bees emerging every now and then to nudge at the fresh blossoms or expand their search. She could go inside if she wanted, sit and rest her feet until Yukiya and the boys came in. The idea had its merits, especially for her feet, but she opted to lead her shifting entourage towards the garden at the back of the house. Her bees followed, one going on ahead in what she would have sworn was excitement as they rounded the corner of the house.

Neat rows of crops and a newly painted toolshed came into view and it wasn’t hard to spot Yukiya amongst them. He was crouched down between their boys, showing them something in the grass that she couldn’t see. Wolfy, she saw, had decided to stay out of the boys’ way by settling in a patch of grass closer to the house and in the shade.

She gave his gray head a pat as she passed by, ignoring the indignant huff it garnered as she crossed the yard to stand just by her second eldest’s side.

“Found something new?” She asked, tilting her head for a better look.

Three faces turned up to look at her, the boys more surprised than their father was. Yukiya’s eye curved up as their eyes met and he drew her attention to a cluster of tiny berries. Bright red and about the size of the nail of her ring finger, their stalks stout and leaves curling at the edges.

“Wild strawberries.” He said softly, looking back up at her with a smile.

“Can we try them? Do you think they’ll taste good?” Her eldest was already reaching for one, stopped only by his father’s gentle hand.

Delia let out a slow breath as she bent as much as she was able, looking over the berries with a keen eye. Her glasses slipped down her nose, turning the berries she knew ought to be red a dark shade of pink instead. The stem, leaves, and surrounding grass all lost a bit of their color – more blue than green to her eyes.

“I think we should give them a couple more days just to be sure.” Her boys whined as soon as she said it, their hair no longer brackish in color as she pushed her glasses back up with care. Yukiya was still smiling, catching her eye over their heads and she winked at him.

“Unless,” she hummed, “you want to eat them when they’re sour.”

Twin expressions of distaste was answer enough. From his spot in the shade, Wolfy snickered.

“If you’re thirsty we can go inside for some tea.” She offered, smiling as both boys shot up and ran for the back door. The youngest jumped over the step, nearly knocking into his brother as he opened the door.

Yukiya helped her straighten up, rubbing the sore spot at the small of her back with one large hand. It felt wonderful. She considered it only part of the reason she leaned into him, feeling the fabric of his shirt against her cheek.

“I’m not sure if it’s my tea they like or the cookies.” She joked after a moment of quiet.

Yukiya’s chuckle was quiet, held mostly in his chest. “I like both.”


	107. Where They are Now - Arum, Schulyer, Luca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arum's future at the Academy, post-route.

“That is enough for today.” Schuyler’s voice made her pause, wand halting mid-flick. She heard the soft sound of a book closing, the roll of one of the drawers in his desk as it opened. Relieved, Arum completed the aborted motion of her wand, watching as the last of this afternoon class’s mess was wiped away.

It hadn’t been terrible per say. She could remember much worse being accomplished in her years as a student at the Academy, either at Luca’s hand or someone else’s.

Examining the classroom one last time to be sure that she hadn’t missed anything, Arum turned to look at her superior.

Schuyler didn’t look up from the papers he was reading, dark blue eyes moving across the page quickly. As she watched his expression soured a bit, leading her to wonder what student had written the paper he was currently frowning over.

“I can take half and grade them, sir, if you would like to go to dinner early.” She offered, sliding her wand back into its pocket in her assistant’s uniform.

For a moment, she thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her. His eyes were still on the page as he reached for a pen to mark something, but he didn’t sound distracted at all when he finally spoke.

“That will not be necessary. Enjoy your evening, Pendergast.”

Taking that as her cue she gathered up her own books and papers, carefully stacking them so that they weren’t likely to fall. On her way out however, she paused.

“Will you be joining us for the holiday, sir?” Arum tried not to fidget as she asked, both because it was unprofessional and she felt silly when she did it.

The faint scratch of the pen came to a halt, her mentor finally turning his head to regard her. She couldn’t read his expression, had never really been able to decipher the older man’s moods very well, but Arum thought he looked like he was considering it.

He turned back to his work after a moment, resuming his writing. “If you have the space available, so long as Luca completes his duties.”

She covered her smile with a quick nod, ducking out the door so there was less of a chance he would see. Once outside the classroom however, Arum allowed herself a victorious little skip down the hall, stopping just before the windows. The late afternoon light turned the marble a deep gold, dust motes floating idly through the air as she walked – now like a proper professor-to-be.

With the lack of students the Academy now seemed too quiet, silence and empty space reigning where groups of students gathered and spent time together. Most had already headed home or were visiting friends, a couple of the professor’s she hadn’t gotten to know until her upperclassman years also taking the chance for an early vacation where their fields allowed.

She poked her head into the library on the off chance that Luca might be there, but only the books remained present amongst the shelves.

The Archives were similarly empty, surprising in and of itself.

But, she reasoned, it made sense that Luca wouldn’t be able to shirk his responsibilities nearly as often now. Randolph kept a closer eye on her boyfriend now than he had when Luca had been a student, although the Headmaster had never once said anything about it directly.

She was about to try heading for the professor’s quarters when something soft and pink leapt up from the floor to perch on her shoulder. Carbuncle purred happily into her ear, butting against her cheek as she laughed and reached to pet it.

“Alright, let’s go find our trouble maker.”


	108. Where They are Now - Reece & Azusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reece and Azusa in Hinomoto, years later.

She’d just finished setting the splint when Azusa walked in, his movements tight and controlled as he entered the room. The last of her students murmured their farewells, and several apologies as well, before they made their exit – careful to avoid the silent figure of the Onmyoji waiting by the door. Reece heard him move closer as she took a last look at her handiwork, no pun intended, lifting her head to greet him.

“Hey there.”

If anything, he looked even sterner upon hearing her relaxed tone.

“What happened?” He asked, already settling into place beside her, reaching for her arm but stopping just short of actually touching her.

His fingers shook just a little, she noticed.

Even so, Reece shrugged as she gestured towards the room in general – equal parts a forge and a teaching space. She’d already cleaned up the evidence, after making sure her students had been alright. “Too much magic being misdirected. It wouldn’t take with the metal and he put too much force behind it to try and make it work. I already spoke with him.” She added, seeing the corners of Azusa’s mouth tighten.

“He should have been more careful.” He finally said, obvious in that he’d thought of saying something else. Obvious to her, at least. His fingers were gentle as he touched her hand, brushing over her knuckles and avoiding the ends of the splint.

“At least I didn’t do it to myself.” She grinned, glad when he went back to looking at her rather than her busted arm. It was more of a glare than a look if she wanted to be honest, but that didn’t matter.

He also looked as though he didn’t believe her.

“What did you do, stick your arm out rather than use a barrier?” His tone suggested that he thought that was something she would do, but he’d rather believe otherwise.

“Sort of.” She admitted, watching as he slowly closed his eyes.

Silence built between them for a moment, Azusa trying to compose himself and Reece herself trying not to think too hard on the throbbing of her arm. When he didn’t say anything at all she reached out to cover his hand with her good one.

“Azusa, I know you’re mad but I wasn’t going to let him get hurt. I acted without thinking, I know, and there’s probably a dozen other things I could have done but I didn’t think of them at the time.” Reece lightly squeezed his fingers, felt how smooth they were compared to her own. Forcing a bit of lightness into her tone, she tried again. “At least this isn’t the first break I’ve ever had.”

That got a sound out of him – somewhere between a strained sigh and a chuckle. He curled his fingers around hers but didn’t squeeze them back, finally looking at her after another moment had passed.

“I never should have let you take up this mad dream of yours.” He smiled thinly, a little weak around the edges. “It seems to me that you would be much less of a danger to yourself if you just stayed home.”

A short laugh escaped her and she drew her good hand out of his, pushing the braid of her hair back. “As if. I told you that I wanted to work, not sit around doing nothing.”

The roll of his eyes was very faint, but she caught it. He sobered up when he glanced at her arm again, meeting her eye a second later. “Have you taken anything for it?”

Reece shook her head. “I cleaned up after I made sure everyone was okay. Sent them home after that. Makes me wish I were better at white magic.” She added, wincing as she shifted.

“Then let’s get you home, foolish girl. Before you decide to blow up something else.” Azusa stood easily, helping her up with care. She stuck her tongue out at him all the same, smiling when he narrowed his eyes.

“I resent that remark, just so you know.”


	109. Where They are Now - Anima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anima and her little family, ten years after the Academy.

Her papers sat, forgotten for the most part, on her desk as they had since the early morning. She hadn’t set foot in her study since then, too busy with the toddler in her arms and his need to get his hands on everything. A maid waited, patiently, at every turn – ready to relieve her of her squirming burden and permit her the opportunity to return to her work.

Anima took a bit of pleasure in refusing it, both to spite the report waiting for her and to spend a few more moments with her child.

Her son showed his appreciation by reaching for her hair once more, attempting to bring a fistful of purple strands to his mouth. The tugging hurt a little more now than it had when he’d first tried, her scalp oversensitive from multiple attempts made and, so far, successfully thwarted. It made her glad that she had forgone her earrings, unwilling to find out just how imaginative the tot could be if denied the chance to pull at her ears.

As she carefully untangled small, pudgy fingers from her hair the maid tried again, raising her voice just loud enough to be heard – while speaking softly enough to not irritate her or the child.

“Ma’am, if you would like for me to take him…” She trailed off at that, hands lifting almost more than an inch before settling back against her skirt.

Anima glanced at the woman as she considered it, arms now beginning to protest the weight she had been carrying since early morning. Her eyes turned back to her son’s face, smooth and pink dusting his cheeks from laughter.

“Thank you.” Turning, she stood close enough to make it easier for the other woman to take her son, letting him go with a faint tinge of reluctance. Her shoulders and back thanked her, just for a second, at the lightening of weight. “It should be time for him to nap soon. Perhaps he will actually sleep this time.” She added, reaching out before she could stop herself, brushing her knuckles over the rise of her son’s cheek.

“Has the mail arrived?” She asked, the thought only then occurring to her.

Abigail hesitated, looking as though she wished to bite her lip as she thought. “It should have, Ma’am. On the table in the hall, unless it’s run late.”

“Thank you.” She turned away from the two, stepping out into the hall for only the third time that day. A small collection of letters rested on the table, as hoped for, and Anima took her time sorting through them.

A cream colored envelope had her name on it written in Mami’s handwriting, the cursive just slightly tilted to the left. She set it aside for later, feeling her mouth quirk upwards at the corners. The next letter had the Ministry’s seal on it, the one behind it almost identical except for the name of the one it was meant for.

The last letter was from Klaus himself, she noted with a degree of coolness. His handwriting was neat enough to be considered perfect, ink a flattering black against the envelope. Her thumb traced the curves of her name slowly as she looked at it without truly seeing it for a moment, debating with herself whether or not to open it.

She set it aside with Mami’s, to be read in private in her study and went to make herself a cup of tea.


	110. Where They are Now - Mami & Elias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into Mami's life, post-route.

The carriage shook a bit as it went down the road but she hardly felt it as she dozed, aware only that the day felt like it had stretched on forever and passed far too quickly at the same time. Her fingertips still tingled with the feeling of directing magic no matter if she rubbed or shook them lightly. Thankfully her wand remained in her pocket, pressing a line against her thigh where she couldn’t see it.

All in all it had been a good day. If she was late returning home then Elias would have to forgive her for it, a faint smile lifting her lips as the thought of seeing him crossed her mind. They’d both been busy, he with studying and work, with his family now that he’d graduated from the Academy and her with much the same. It would be nice to have a few days to sit and relax, not having to worry about the sudden arrival of a patient in the wee hours.

She felt confident that the team she’d trained in Reitz could handle whatever came their way for a couple of days.

Shifting so that her cheek pressed against the frame of the window Mami let out a slow, deep breath, feeling herself draw closer and closer to the inviting border of sleep. She’d let her hair down when she’d climbed in, relieved to finally let herself relax. Her shoes had followed shortly after and flexing her toes had been a simple joy she’d reveled in. Now she listened to the sounds of the carriage as it moved, growing less and less aware of the world around her as her breathing evened out and her body relaxed.

She woke, briefly, when someone touched her hand but Elias’ voice lulled her back to sleep what seemed like a moment later.


	111. Where They are Now - Aina & Joel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aina has a surprise for Joel now that they've moved on from the Academy.

“Thank you for coming.” There’s real gratitude in Joel’s voice, tired as it is from the concert, and she gives him a smile in response as she offers him his coat. He takes it with a smile of his own, sliding it on with all the grace of someone who’s been working all day and is thoroughly fatigued from it. It’s a side of him only she has gotten to see, Aina’s noticed. In front of others, even some of their shared friends, he keeps himself aloof.

She’s not sure if it’s masculine pride or something that makes him do it but the whole thing is kind of silly when she actually thinks about it.

Like when Luca used to put on airs just to annoy Elias.

“I had fun.” She says back, her own coat on at last. She feels better with one on, the dress she’d picked baring too much shoulder and back than she’d really been comfortable with after the first thirty minutes.

The skirt of her dress rustles as she moves in step with him, their feet carrying them towards the exit. People lingering in the hall and foyer nod to them as they pass, Joel nods back as much as necessary and she braces herself the whole time it takes for them to step through the door.

Once free, the night air cooling the flush she hadn’t been aware of until then, she adds, “Besides, it was your last performance for the year – how could I miss it?”

He laughs, quietly, and she doesn’t stop him when he reaches out to take her hand and squeeze it.

“It means a lot.” He says.

They walk in the quiet like that, hand in hand, as the concert hall’s lights grow smaller behind them and the town of Gedonelune spreads out around them. She’s got a train to catch in the morning and he no doubt has somewhere to be when the sun rises but they continue to walk aimlessly down familiar streets. If Joel wonders why she hasn’t broken off to head to her hotel he doesn’t mention it, palm and fingers slightly calloused and warm against her own.

Aina turns the night over in her mind, glancing at a darkened storefront as they pass it by. The glass serves as a pretty good mirror and her own face watches her as she and Joel walk. Joel’s facing forward, his profile handsome in the early night. She looks away as the glass recedes to wood and stone, watching their feet on the cobblestone before looking up once more.

The central plaza fountain looms before them, figure bearing the water pitcher unchanged from the last time she’d seen it. In the dark the marble shines a little, water from the pitcher always catching and tossing the light as it falls. It’s as good a place as any, Aina decides, and maybe a part of the reason she picks this spot is because it will annoy him once he really thinks about it.

“Joel?” She asks, stopping just short of passing the fountain’s lip, her fingers loose around his.

He stops almost instantly, turning to face her with a faint look of confusion. She takes the chance to really look at him, free of stage lights that burn out any imperfection. He’s gotten older, his features a little more defined than they had been when they went to the Academy together. There’s a sharpness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before and she thinks he gets it from his father, from what she can recall of the man.

His thumb brushes over her fingers and he’s still taller than her after all these years, still looks at her like she’s the most interesting thing in a room, his voice always a little softer when he says her name.

“What is it, Aina?” He asks, bi-colored eyes searching her face. She isn’t sure what he finds there, but she gives him a smile to make him worry a little less. He’ll go gray early if he keeps up his usual routine of it.

“I want…” She hesitates, not because she’s afraid, the words are clinging to the back of her throat and she has to say each one carefully just to get them out. “I want you to make me one last promise.”

Aina chooses that word specifically, watching him as he stands a little straighter, all of his attention on this, her, and the space between.

Several emotions cross his face, a couple of them gone before she can identify them, but he nods slowly for her to continue.

A part of her is grateful that he doesn’t immediately promise her ‘anything’ and ‘everything’.

With her free hand she reaches into the pocket of her coat, feels for the shape tucked carefully away in an inner layer of fabric and draws it out so he can see. In the dark it looks almost dull gray, the pattern of leaves not immediately discernible, but she slides it up his ring finger all the same.

“Don’t ever leave.” Is what she says, his hand in hers and the band gleaming softly against his skin.

His throat works as he swallows, gold and turquoise irises fixed on the slender band of metal before they slowly lift to her face. His eyes are bright, more so than usual, and he looks very much like he had when the Fairy King gave him back his magic.

Joel opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out for a second. He closes it, licks his lips and swallows, tries again. “In front of the fountain? Really?”

Aina smiles, because she can, because she can hear the quiver in his lovely voice, because she feels like she might be making a good decision in this.

“Well if I got down on one knee I’d be level with your knees and it would ruin my dress.” She jokes, glad to hear him laugh – tight and shaky but still a laugh – and adds, “I would have gotten you flowers, but they would have wilted at the concert.”

“It’s – it’s not about the flowers…” He can’t continue beyond that, chuckling hard enough to make his shoulders shake. His hand is curled around hers, holding on tight, and she doesn’t mind.

She has to be on tiptoe to reach his face with any sort of ease, but when her thumb brushes under his right eye it comes away wet. He moves then, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her. She wobbles, but part of that is solved when she puts her arms around him too.

“I promise.” Joel says, right by her ear, against her neck when he buries his face there. “I promise.”

Still teetering on the very, very tips of her semi-new shoes Aina smiles, hugging him back.


	112. Where They are Now - Julie & Vincent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a day of celebration for Julie, ten years after the Academy.

She feels like the day has been an utter blur despite how important it’s been, unable to think back and pinpoint exactly when the sense of a rush in the clock began. Her uniform, new and gradually becoming familiar, draws a couple of curious stares as she takes the quickest way back but she doesn’t mind – it’s still a little overwhelming for her too.

A part of her swears she can still feel Anna’s arms hugging her tight, a quick press of soft lips against her cheek before a round of pats on the shoulder and slaps on the back had taken Anna’s place.

She’d never known that Vincent’s fellow Knights could so enthusiastic about celebrating.

The key slides easily into the lock when she reaches the door, turning without any trouble and then she’s in Vincent’s apartment – their apartment. A quick glance around confirms that he’s home – coat on the rack she’d hung on the wall for just that, shoes by the door. She has to bend to remove her own, fingers fumbling a little with the new buttons on the boots. Once she’s set them aside, stepped into the room proper, she sees him.

He grins, wide and bright, pushing off the wall that separates the living room from the kitchen and spreads his arms out as if to embrace her from across the room.

They meet in the middle, her own arms winding around him as he holds her tightly against his chest. He’s warm and smells like coffee, grounding her when it seems like she might just be happy enough to float away.

“I did it. I made it in.” She says against his shoulder, feeling the rumble of a soft laugh as it rises up from his chest.

He squeezes her against him gently, sounding proud as he says, “You definitely did.”

When they part they’re still smiling, although hers fades into confusion as she spots something that looks an awful lot like whipped cream on his cheek. Vincent’s expression goes slack when she lifts her thumb to wipe it away, becoming sheepish as she peers at him questioningly.

“I uh… I wanted to make you a surprise. ‘s why I left early.” He coughs softly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“You wanted to surprise me with whipped topping on your face?” Julie teases, cleaning her thumb with a lick. “I’d say it was successful, honestly.”

His eyes curve up at that and he turns as if to lead her into the kitchen. As his arm winds around her waist again and he coaxes her and her stocking-clad feet to walk with him she wonders how much destruction she’s about to face.

What she sees is more than a pleasant surprise.

“Ta-da!” He hums, making a grand sweeping motion with his tattooed hand.

The kitchen shows no sign of being used for nefarious purposes, dishes stacked nice and neat where they belong. It’s the vase of flowers at the end of the counter that draws her attention, however, and the delicate looking dish beside it.

Right beside it, Julie notes, is a still-steaming cup of black coffee.

“Anna helped you with this.” She says matter-of-factly, unable to contain a laugh when she looks up to see his expression – the very image of wounded dignity and betrayal.

“Hey now, I’m the one that made that for you. I even looked up a recipe and everything.” He lets her go so she can move closer to the display, watching her lean in to sniff the bright yellow flowers with hands on his hips. At length he finally said, “Anna picked the flowers.”

She looks at him over the petals of one, feeling herself smile as the soft petals tickle her nose and cheek. A bit of pink spreads across his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, still with a gleam of pride in his golden eyes.

When she looks down at the treat he’d made, her smile widens.

“A parfait?”

“Just like the one you ordered on our first date.” He says, moving to lean against the counter once he’s close enough, lifting the coffee up to his nose for a quick inhale. He sighs in quiet pleasure a second later, opening his eyes to grin up at her from his slouched position.

It’s the only time she gets to be taller than him, other than when he opts to sit on the floor rather than the couch so she can massage his shoulders.

Julie looks back at the parfait, carefully lifting the spoon he’d slipped into it and trying a bit. She feels Vincent watching her for a reaction, meets his eye as she slowly rolls a blueberry drizzled with honey on her tongue. With enough pressure, it pops, and she gives him a soft smile as she slides the spoon out of her mouth.

“I’m impressed. It’s perfect.”

His entire face lights up at that and she’s surprised he doesn’t spill a bit of coffee on himself when he goes to take a drink.

“I’m glad. I tried really hard on that you know.” The cup muffles his words a bit but she doesn’t say anything as she takes another bite of her parfait.

It’s almost like back then – except that she isn’t a student anymore and he doesn’t watch half of what he says with the same level of secrecy as he did during her Trial. She sees him glance curiously at her uniform, taking in the details. When her glass is empty she catches him by surprise with a kiss, her hand brushing his neck as she cups the back of his head.

He kisses her back after a second and doesn’t even make a face at the sweetness on her lips when they pull apart.

“Welcome to the Ministry.” He says cheekily, no longer slouching quite as much. Like this, they’re eye-to-eye and she likes it, likes the happiness she can see in his eyes that mirrors the feeling in her chest.

“Any more surprises?” She asks, mostly to tease, though she winds up laughing and pushing at his shoulder when he arches his brows suggestively.


	113. Learning Together - Cameron & Leon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of traumatic events. Minor spoilers for Leon's route.

“Cameron?” Leon’s voice drifts to their attention easily due to the lack of any particularly loud noise. When they look up to show they’re paying attention, they’re surprised to find that he’s already looking at them.

“Yes?” They ask, feeling the breeze move by in the way it tugs at the fabric of their skirt and the ends of their hair.

He’s knee deep in the lake, the shorts he’d been loaned by his roommate a little wet at the hem. The sun glints off his long silver hair, turning it white and difficult to look at directly, making the crimson of his eyes all the more striking. He lifts a hand to brush back the loose tresses that had fallen over his shoulder as he’d bent to examine a shoal of lunefish, a curiosity in his gaze that hadn’t been there months previous.

“Why won’t you come into the water with me?” He asks softly, watching them, all of them, in that way few others seem to be able to do. Leon doesn’t just focus on faces when he addresses a person, but the whole of their being – taking them in at a glance even if he’s still learning the nuances of body language.

It’s still a little intimidating, even for them. Usually though, the innocence in which he asks a question or makes an observation makes it easier to bear.

It doesn’t quite work this time, the harmlessness of his manner fails to soften the edge of dread that rises in their stomach and tenses their shoulders as they turn blue eyes to look at the lake itself.

They’ve heard from Yukiya that towards the center, the lake itself is rather deep. Possibly even opening up to the ocean that surrounds the Academy and the capital. Cameron can still recall the sick feeling the thought of so much water had brought to the back of their throat, all the easier because a shadow of that fear is resting in their mouth now.

Unconsciously, they shrink back from it a little even though they had chosen to sit a safe distance from the bank while Leon looked at the fish.

A splash draws them back out of their trance, Leon’s legs glistening from calves downward as he steps out onto the bank and closer to them. He reaches out once he’s close enough, with enough slowness that it doesn’t startle them too badly when his hand cups their cheek.

They’ve often wondered if touching someone helps Leon to understand what that person might be feeling or thinking better, or if it’s just something he does with them because they don’t mind now that they’ve grown used to it. But it helps ground them a little against their remembered fear, the warmth of his smooth palm an anchor to the present.

Even when he’s crouching, Cameron has to tilt their head up to look him in the eye.

“You made that face the day I pulled you in to bathe.” He says, soft and curious. Concerned maybe, because his brow’s a little furrowed and there’s a searching look in his eyes as he looks them over. His thumb smooths a path over their cheek like he’s trying to help without really knowing how. “Are you… afraid? Is that what that look is?”

It feels like it takes too much courage to actually say it, too long to form the words but eventually they do. Cameron nods once as they lift a hand to cover the one Leon has against their cheek, gently pulling it away so that they can curl their fingers over his and marvel again at the softness of his hands. “I don’t like water, especially if it’s deep. I got scared that day because if water comes up over my knees I start to be afraid of it. I can’t take baths. The water comes up too high if I sit in a tub and it scares me.”

They only know that they’ve started to squeeze Leon’s hand when he winces a little and then Cameron lets go, sheepish and ashamed, turning their eyes elsewhere so that they don’t have to look at him.

“Sorry.” They murmur, picking at the cloth of their cloak for something to do.

“It’s okay.” Leon surprises them by settling right beside them, close enough that he can tuck them against his side. It takes them a moment to relax, but they do, and being so close to their Buddy and friend makes them feel safe. “I’m sorry I scared you that day.”

He means it, Cameron can hear it in his voice clear as day. It’s still impressive to them how much he’s learned in so short a length of time.

“You didn’t know. It’s okay.” They manage a smile even if Leon can’t quite see it since they’re resting their head against his shoulder.

Quiet descends after that, broken only birds singing and the occasional lap of the lake. It’s peaceful, and maybe after tomorrow’s classes are over they can go to Leon’s favorite spot in the North Forest. They like it there too, the serenity of the forest as well as the purity of the spring where Leon used to sleep.

“This isn’t something that I can fix with my magic, is it?” Leon’s deep voice fills their ear pleasantly, the question itself sounding subdued. Pale fingers stroked their own, uncaring if their fingers were rough with callouses or smooth in some places from scar tissue.

Cameron can feel the path his index finger takes over a patch of skin in a distant sort of way, though watching him do it is probably what helps.

“I don’t think so.” They say it carefully, mulling the idea over.

In a way, it’s nice to know that there are some things even Leon can’t do.

“What happened? To make you afraid of water I mean.” He holds their hand as though he can sense the return of their discomfort, which he probably can considering they’re side by side and he’s much more than just a boy.

It helps a little, but it’s still hard to think about and then push back the thought that he’ll have the same reaction as others in the past.

“I fell into a river when I was little, according to Madam Bolare. She said her staff found me after I had washed up on the bank after a storm had passed.” Cameron swallows around the feeling that the memory brings back, hazy and unsettling. As though they’d still been underwater. Leon’s hand is still in theirs and it’s comforting. “I don’t remember anything from before then, but I’ve been scared of the water ever since. The head maid didn’t believe me then, even when I cried.”

It’s hard not to say it with a bit of bitterness. They’ve tried, but it clings to the roof of their mouth with a sickly taste.

“You’re still angry about it.” Leon says each word carefully, as though testing whether he’s right or not.

Rather than speak, Cameron nods, hearing and feeling the rub of their hair against the cloth of his shirt.

Neither of them say anything more for several minutes. Cameron takes the chance to look up at the sky, mostly cloudless and a pretty sort of blue. How much magic does it take, they wonder, to control the weather the way that Headmaster Randolph can?

The older man reminds them of Leon in a way – powerful, a little too powerful, and more than what they seem at first glance. Whatever secrets the Headmaster might have, however, they don’t know and are happy to stay that way. It was enough to know that he was friends with the King of Fairies, and that he had every intention of helping Leon become accustomed to life as a human.

A soft chuckle brought Cameron’s attention back to Leon, vibrations from his chest echoing through their arm to an extent. When they moved their head to look at him, he was smiling. A beautiful smile, kind and sincere.

“You and I have a lot in common, Cameron.” He said quietly, bringing their hand up to his lips like he had the day they’d first met. When he’d called them a pure maiden and they’d told him that they weren’t a girl.

They didn’t mind so much now, if a friend called them a girl. None of the people they’d befriended meant it in a bad way, they’d found.

“Is that bad?” They asked, watching the way Leon’s eyes became half-lidded when he kissed the back of their hand.

His response was a shake of his head, silver hair swaying as he did it. He didn’t let go of their hand once he pulled back, only lowered it a little as he smiled again. “It means we can learn about unfamiliar things together. I can learn about you.”

The back of his thumb brushed over their knuckles in a faintly ticklish way.

They wanted to bottle up that feeling, the physical and emotional parts of it, and save it forever.

“I still have to learn about you, silly.” They smiled as they said it, gently pulling their hand from his so they could tuck a bit of his hair away from his face. Leon leaned in to the touch, smiling softer when they let their hand rest against his cheek.

“We have plenty of time.” He hummed, peering at them from beneath snowy lashes.

“Until nightfall at least.” Cameron teased.


	114. Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Cerim tells her that they cannot work together, let alone be Buddies, Maralith offers something a little simpler.

Maralith felt Cerim's eyes on her as soon as she entered the lunchroom. It wasn't a heavy sort of look, not like the kind that she'd felt when it had been her first day of classes and she'd been new to everyone in the school. This was more like... watchfulness. Maybe a little bit of appraisal, like he was trying to figure out what she would do before she even knew herself.

She didn't face him until she had claimed a lunch for herself and wound between the tables to stand on the opposite side of where he was eating. Or, to be more precise, had been eating. He'd set his food down as she'd approached the unoccupied seat in front of him, squaring his shoulders like he expected a fight.

On one shoulder was Ronny, puffing up his fur and grinding his little teeth. His tiny paws clasped an acorn, though he seemed to have forgotten it for the moment.

Maralith flashed them both a smile and helped herself to the seat, setting her tray down as lightly as she could. Around them the hustle and bustle of the lunch hour continued - their fellow students comparing notes, talking about sports, planning what they were going to do on the next Field Day.

"Looks good." She said, nodding towards Cerim's half-finished sandwich. "You make it yourself?" She asked, unwrapping her own from its pretty, simple wax paper.

Ronny bristled. "How _dare_ you talk to my Master like that! Like you have any right to - "

"I didn't." Cerim answered, cutting Ronny's tirade off. The little familiar caught himself mid-sentence, lurching forward as though he'd been knocked off balance. "It's... easier, to get lunch here." Cerim added coolly.

He hadn't stopped looking her over, like he expected a retaliation for previous events to be made right then and there. Maralith would have wondered if he'd had a hand on his wand, if both his hands hadn't been on the table before him.

"I understand." She smiled before taking a bite, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the flavors of her sandwich before chewing and swallowing. "There's not always enough time to cook, so you have to make do where you can."

Cerim didn't say anything, just watched her enjoy her lunch with a carefully blank expression. He didn't even reach for his own food.

Maralith nodded to his abandoned lunch. "You should eat up. You'll need your energy, right? No sense in going on with your day on a half-full stomach."

Ronny seemed to hit his breaking point, tucking his acorn under one little arm as he shimmied down his master's arm to glare at her. "Hey! Don't you tell my Master what he should or shouldn't do! It's not like you - "

"Ronny," Maralith set her food down and folded her hands, watching at the little familiar freeze up as she addressed him. She kept her voice soft and friendly as she continued. "I understand that you're upset and trying to defend your Master. What I want _you_ to understand is that I'm not here to cause any trouble."

She glanced up at Cerim. "I want you to understand that too, Cerim. I'm here as me. A student. I just want to have lunch with one of the few people that I know on this campus. Maybe talk a little, but that's all."

He regarded her with that detached, blank sort of look for a moment longer before he slowly nodded. A little bit of the tension in his shoulders released and he reached for his food again.

Ronny gawped, staring up at Cerim as he nibbled at his sandwich. "B-b-but _Master!_ How can you - I thought - "

"We're having lunch, Ronny." Cerim corrected his familiar tonelessly, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He glanced at Maralith. "That's all."

Maralith smiled, sitting back and unfolding her hands so she could reach for her food once more.

Ronny stared, looking between them. He slowly deflated, cheeks puffing out before he growled under his breath and scurried back up Cerim's arm to plop down by his collar. He was muttering something, but Maralith couldn't quite hear what - although she could easily guess. It wouldn't take much imagination, considering the little familiar kept tossing ugly looks as he munched on the acorn.

"So," Cerim began once they'd finished their food. "What did you want to talk about?"

Maralith took a sip of her drink, letting the fruity taste rest on her tongue for a moment before she answered.

"I want to be friends." She said at last, setting her cup down gently.

Cerim's brows rose, pale eyes widening. It was the most expressive face she had seen him make, besides anger and confusion mixed together. He got himself under control pretty quickly, frowning as he sat up straight in his chair. On his shoulder, Ronny was all puffed up again.

"Why?" Cerim asked coolly. "I've already told you that we aren't - "

"You told me." Maralith cut him off lightly, tapping the rim of her cup with a finger. She tapped her foot slowly as she thought, meeting his stare without flinching. "And I thought about what you said. I did."

"Did you?" He asked, tone just shy of accusatory.

Maralith held up a finger to stop him, watching his mouth tighten as he pushed back what was going to say. When he looked somewhat calm again, she lowered her finger and folded her hands.

"I'm grateful," she began, "for everything that you saw fit to share with me. And I understand that it isn't something that's easy for you. That might be hard to believe - but I do. That being said, I can't just sit back and watch from the sidelines like you want me to do."

Cerim's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak. Ronny remained silent as well, likely only because his master was.

"I say I want to be friends because even if you really feel like you don't need a Buddy, you _do_ need a friend. Someone you can trust." Maralith added.

"Why should I be able to trust you?" Cerim asked lowly. Ronny nodded judiciously from his shoulder, little arms folded and acorn apparently finished.

Maralith shrugged, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table. "I came to you first, after what happened. I'm here right now, asking to be your friend. Doesn't that count for something?" She asked.

"I have friends." He told her. "And they do not get in my way."

"You do." She agreed, smiling a little. "And they're very good friends. Guy likes you a lot. So does Elias." Her smile faded and she drummed her fingers lightly against her arm. "But none of them know about _you_ ," she pointed at him for emphasis. "And what _you_ do. I want to help, simple as that. I want to be friends first, if that's alright, and I want to help you do what you have to do."

Cerim frowned, studying her like he had several times before. Like she didn't make sense to him. At all.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why?" Maralith felt her brows creep up. "Why do I want to help you? Or why do I want to be friends?"

"Both."

Pursing her lips, she looked away for a moment. Her arms were still in front of her and she found herself examining the whorls of grain in her right hand as she thought.

"Because." She said at last, looking up at him.

_"Because."_ Cerim repeated flatly, one slim brow quirking. He quite obviously didn't believe her.

"Because the Cerim I've gotten to know over the past few days seems to be only part of the whole." Maralith said softly. "And I would like to get to know you more. Because I think back on the things you've told me in trust and I think you're lonelier than you want to admit. Because I don't think it's fair for you to have to do so much on your own and not be able to reach out for help when you need it."

Cerim's expression tightened like she'd struck a nerve.

"I don't need anyone to help me with what I'm doing." He said sharply. Ronny flinched a little at his tone, peeking up at his master over the fluff of his tail. "I have all that I need."

"Maybe you do." Maralith raised her hands, rolling them in a gesture reminiscent of a shrug. "Maybe I am wrong and you have everything worked out. I didn't come here to try and force you into anything."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't say or do anything else.

"Lunch is almost over." Maralith said, glancing up at the clock and then back at Cerim. She gathered up her tray, making to stand. "Think on it," she told him quietly. "That's all I'll ask."

With that she stepped over the bench she'd been sitting on and went to dispose of her trash, leaving the tray to be collected at the end of the lunch hour. She could feel Cerim's stare on the back of her neck as she walked, but didn't turn back to look as she left the dining hall.


End file.
